The city's at it's brightest
When the sun has left it's throne,
And the streetlights form a landing strip
For our returning souls.
We feed them on our mindless lust
And we drown them in our love.
Those feelings are hard to seperate
Despite what we've been taught.
There's a theory among the scholars
That emotion is a lie,
Peddled by the bible and engineered by Christ.
Some God-awful conspiracy to make us think we have a soul.
To make us certain that we're different.
That's quite a trick he's pulled.
It's like looking at the universe through a microscope,
Watching people on distant stars trying hard to cope
With the overwhelming feeling that they're not alone.
I spend my life terrified
That I'll find a reason to be scared.
Right now all I have to go on
Is a book of fairytales,
That says I'm being chased by dragons
Set on burning me alive,
And if I keep trying to save myself
I will surely die.
I thought I heard God calling me,
But now I'm not so sure.
It could have been some synapse failing me.
I hear they're not reliable.
I've got faith,
Yeah, I've got tonnes of it,
But I need something clear.
Sometimes I think my pride is all that's keeping me here.
And some say that the horizon
Was put there to stop us having a sense of proportion,
Because that would destroy us.
If we could see infinity we would just give up.