So Far Things Seem to be Working Out

"Awake in this cold cell I, I just hope you're happy
Awake in this cold cell I break my body against the wall
Awake in this cold cell... I am my only devil
Why can't I be you and put those hands away
I go through this everyday"

                                                          ~Further Seems Forever

So Far Things Seem to be Working Out

I am bound by flesh. 

I am a faker

I am a phony

I am a hypocrite.

My life is bound by human desire. 

Taken from my eyes,  to my head,  and never my heart. 

I listen to my own understanding. 

I listen to me,  myself,  and I.

So far things seem to working out. 

I am a man with minimal struggle. 

And minimal success. 

I am getting by and that's okay.

Some man behind a pulpit keeps telling me to pray. 

He keeps telling me this Jesus is the only way. 

Well, that is all fine and dandy.

Hell seems far more fun than those clouds you claim as free. 

I am bound by flesh. 

I am a faker. 

I am a phony. 

I am a hypocrite.

My life is bound by limited understanding.  

Taken by my world. 

Subjected to death.

Looking through eyes that glass over at night. 

Things are not right. 

My once happy life has taken a turn towards the ground. 

I keep having this nagging feeling and pulling around my chest. 

Something seems missing.

Some man behind the pulpit tells me I need to fill this feeling. 

I tried to do so. 

Philosophy,  education,  I tried it all. 

But all the knowledge in my head does not seem to seep into my chest. 

I am bound by flesh. 

I am a faker. 

I am a phony. 

I am a hypocrite

.

Today a friend of mine passed away.

He died from a broken heart. 

The surgery did not work. 

Yet,  the man behind the pulpit says he is in a better place.

I am told to fill my life with Jesus and love.

I am told to go and be a light. 

How do I shine when I am dead?

How do I fill up my life with a man I cannot see?

I am bound by flesh. 

I am a faker. 

I am a phony. 

I am a hypocrite.

I guess I am dead. 

My body is in the ground,  yet I am still conscious. 

I look up and I see my friend rejoicing and singing. 

The clouds look more like a city. 

A city that is never lonely.

Down here I am floating.

In a river run by a man causing me to rethink my desires. 

All I wish for now is water. 

All I wish for is another chance to live not for power.