this way up
sally's selling saviors by the seashore
while peter piper's picking preachers,
paul is writing letters to my heart
i can feel the labor pains of mother mary
a father's love in abraham
it's so beautiful, i just want to believe
i find it hard to lose my faith in angels watching over me
i'm still not sure if all this is is just suspending disbelief
a man is handing tracts out by the city square
his smile is wide but i don't care
i have a funny feeling that he's selling them to me
and all the bible thumpers on tv
are standing in for Jesus, who is on his way
he'll be here in a couple days
all the messengers are clouding up the way i look at faith
there's something in their message, somewhere, maybe calling out to me
i want it bad, it's so intrinsic, so primeval, so innate
but doubt is creeping in, that maybe all i want is to believe
that doesn't make it right
but it doesn't make it wrong either
i read it in an article, it's in our head
we're hardwired to believe that there is something more
than all of us, in all of us, it's true
and all the atheists, believers too
they both said that it proved their point
it's iron-clad, we knew it all along
and when i pray, i'm searching still i find it hard to believe
it's not so hard, i feel there's something out there tugging on my sleeve
i'm like a box marked "fragile", this way up, oh won't you set me right
but there are arrows pointing every way, i can't determine
which way i'm supposed to go
i don't think that i can figure it out on my own
i kind of envy the believers
who aren't burdened with my pangs of doubt
they've got it figured out, it's all so simple and so real
but if let myself fall victim to
believing in the things that make me feel good
will i believe in anything at all
updated 7 months ago
version: 1
