Ghosts and Gods
I found salvation in a bathroom stall;
Piss on the floor, shit on the wall,
The ceiling caving in.
Like an angry, bitter farewell,
Like a garden of roses in hell,
Like fell curse upon flesh, blood and bone.
Swallow a bullet and swallow your pride,
There’s nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.
All things are seen. Every sin
Is a tale we’ve all been told before,
Is a whisper of the ghosts of yore
Is a window high above the unknown.
A choir of angels lined up in the sky;
They saw right through me, they knew how I’ll die.
Their words end where they begin.
Singing about forever,
How we’re all in this together,
But they say we’re to end all alone.
We make our own salvation,
And not our own damnation,
The answers are under our skin.
So temper your steel,
Don’t expect an appeal
And don’t bow before any throne.
