I was talking to Jesus through a hole in the floor, waiting for some
divine sense of ending, but all I got was interference on the cell
phone and no answer to the text I was sending.

Thinking that I was oblivious but not so obviously wrong, I waited
…but was just pretending, the sky disagreed and became very angry
as nighttime came descending

I don’t wish to be that person
I don’t want to live that life

I don’t want to have that feeling
I don’t want to live that life

I want to exist inside nature’s pornography, inside what’s called
the barrel of the gun…scheming and dreaming and watching
and waiting; looking backward and on the run

Somewhere I know there’s a person looking toward me, looking
back at what they’ve done…looking all the while like they
have it made; threads of gold falling from an indifferent sun

I don’t wish to be that person
I don’t want to live that life

I don’t want to have that feeling
I don’t want to live that life

It’s reckless dismemberment that has caused us to flinch, to decide
we have better times ahead, better times to believe in….yet we are
nowhere nearer to what we said.

It’s total disregard for our safety, these elitist versions of who we are
when we’re dead, it’s the moment of inflection and of choice…
of people who will not believe what they’ve read

I don’t wish to be that person
I don’t want to live that life

I don’t want to have that feeling
I don’t want to live that life

But its the life I have and the dreams I have and the needs I have
and the schemes I have and the deeds I have and the me I am
…its the life I have and the dreams I have and the needs I have
and the schemes I have and the deeds I have and
the me
I am