Texty: City And Colour. Little Hell. Make Believe.

:
I was raised in catholic school,
taught to obey that one golden rule
That is, He who sits in the Heavens above
deserves all your praise, devotion and your love
Because he had a son who had died for our sins
And with that sacrifice came a sense of contrition
That we all seem to feel when we're down on our knees
looking up to die hoping he'll answer all our needs

But I tend to believe that it's all for not
and when the sun does set, all our souls will rot
along with our flesh and our bones and our blood
will seep into the earth reconnecting with the mud
And I think to myself, what a beautiful lie
to waste being devote to what could all turn out to be a lie
To be a lie

Now I do not know, but I have been told
If you don't believe in Him, well then the devil owns your soul
But let us just examine what's below this land
It's the story of a man with a pitchfork in his hand
Could you honestly believe in such a tall, tall tale
Something that sounds so make believe just like the sailor and the whale

Well I guess that this song has sealed my own fate
Lucifer won't take me, ain't crossing through no pearly gates

But if either one exists well that's fine by me
I will gladly spend the afterlife waiting in purgatory, purgatory