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Saturday, 26 February 2011

Best Friends with the Devil

Call it a sickness of the soul turning to delusion
Some things you lose in life make it not matter what else you're losing
Call it a crisis of faith. Please! Call it something else -
Call it the lost and the lonely finally finding his place in the world

May you live happy and you live long
May your strength keep you faithful and your faith keep you strong
Not me, I'm weak, I'm giving up God
I've been waiting for him to save me so long, now saving ain't what I want

My behaviour lately's been nothing short of unchristian
I've been screaming out for God but either he can't hear me or he ain't listening
So I put myself on a self-made cross of self-pity
And I've been wondering what the barrel of a gun tastes like whilst I'm drinking

'Cos drinking is something like crying
And there's enough tears in my glass to drown
I've been screaming for heaven my whole goddam life
Now I'm hell-bound

Don't preach to me about salvation I'll preach you something better -
Makes the loss I feel from losing in life not even matter
You can call it mortal sin, call it growing old disgracefully, whatever,
But from now on whenever you see me call me best friends with the Devil.

2 comments:

  1. Perhaps your stories of love and pain isn't so much about giving up, but crying out, which means hope is not lost, however you spell your religion. I hope you keep faith in whatever helps you, writing, friendship, or the hopes of heaven and earth. There is no wrong answer. Peace.

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  2. This was fantastic. Such raw emotion. I loved it.

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