Ethereal

The Hopeless and the Various Believers

You’ve never seen a thousand dollar bill, but you know it Exists
So anyone has a right to believe whatever, so why get Pissed?
Almost like by believing in something other than your favorite color- you’re offended.
As if you’re saying the wide topic of life is limited; not open ended

I’m actually pretty fucking sick of Religion
Wars across oceans and lunch table over a Vision;
A simple notion that none of us actually know for real
What is the reason for anything, so why not just feel.

Be free to Feel, and think and question, and breathe
Explore your thoughts about why we’re here or after we Leave

Is it really worth blowing up countries and sisterhoods?
Any belief that ends harmony, really can’t be that good.

I’ll always admit when I’m wrong, and I was on the defense
I just hate all this stupid religious Non Sense

I don’t give a shit who Jesus is or what you think that he does
I hate the violence, and sexists. And christianity mostly Because;
I dont get why the most negative beliefs get the most Buzz

You get wrapped up in these philosophical Thinkers
But they’re really just trying to decipher how the world Tinkers

You can dial any number, but theres only two Receivers
The hopeless and the various Believers

And that’s what I am; hopeful
Sometimes with my friends I’m dope-full
Most days I’m admittedly pretty mopeful

Cause no matter how many times I fill it: My glass
It keeps getting broken apart and cracked

That’s why I write. About every scar for every pain
That’s why I sit on this stupid half empty train
And I have a story no mere hours could distain
But it’s haunting me every second, festering in my brain
I’m itching to rip open my soul and scream… but I refrain

Do me a favor? Take two seconds and look in your own reflection
See your religious obsession turns into friendship Rejection
That for every action i make, you have an Objection
I never told you the whole story, I thought out know the direction

Because on the outside, I’m a bitch. It’s me who has changed.
I’m a plastic popular cult- and I think everyone is lame.
I’m a pot head. I’m a whore. I’m a shit talker to blame.

I’m five minutes short of his parents walking in the door
I’m a virgin with bruises because you know I’m a whore
I’m six marks on my hip, praying to be stopped from carving more

I’m a holder of secrets that I can’t even remember.
I’m a seventeen year curse of a snowy November
I’m burn marks and incisions that fade to you, like embers

Let’s break off everything, and not even start
To not inquire but consider her long Broken heart
Or recognize the demons, constantly tearing her Apart

Or maybe you did, and that’s my problem here
Did you possibly note the pain and the Fear?
And the weight of my demons were too much, so you cleared.

See… I’m not mad. Its just that You were a savior
Sat back and stayed true through my shitty behavior

You were the only warmth that I ever felt, because you
Really do have a crystal white heart, you were true
And maybe it was my own guilt because I never helped you

But I’ve metamorphose- sized
And for that I won’t apologize
Because if you looked in my eyes
In five seconds- you’d realize.