People turn to god when they feel scared
They want to feel like someone cares
They stick their head in the ground
So they don’t have to hear a sound

They pray because it makes them feel better
Grief of their shoulders, burned like a hateful letter
Fight against sin to keep a place in heaven
Stand with the disciples, the remaining eleven

And while it may sound wonderful
It’s planted for the fearful
It’s turning away from the truth
It’s like searching for the never-ending youth

But I get it, I understand
Realities a b**** and loves in demand
In fact I’d almost join them in bliss
But I feel realities something I’d rather not miss