Augustine - Confessions of the Rich Young Ruler lyrics
Feel like a stranger in a strange land Twenty-something and depressed, guess it isn't what I had planned Can't stand all the brands and the logos While the Logos is a no-go—no, the truth Doesn't sell, not too well Tell me why I'm fetching books from the self-help section of hell (And every bell's like a d**h knell) Unfit for the modern world Everybody selling something, got to sell yourself to get the girl Look at me, look at me, here's my C.V. Are you a Mac or a PC? So take it easy on the Francis of Assisi Don't really see the point if it don't please me Listless at Christmas What if I don't feel merry? Bit scary to think I can't evolve 'cause I can't solve the missing link Spilling ink like I'm on the brink—jump and sink Where's God? Are my ears so flawed that the Word's unheard? Nah, He doesn't even wink Misty from the issues calling for tissues Refugees, ma** shootings, and the planet that we misuse And the sick news continues into ever-new venues What's next on the menu? If I retreat from all your links and tweets, would that offend you? Don't really care what you share about the darkness out there if you're blind to the demons within you Confessions of a blessed twenty-something who's depressed Took my restless heart to God—where's my rest? Just trying to be honest like the Psalmist I'm not the flyest guy, I'm not the calmest Promised joy, but I'm sadder You can call me Jacob's ladder 'cause I'm up and down, smile and frown Pound for pound, no match for Old Scratch when he's unbound I thought the truth couldn't hurt you Then I took the red pill and I read After Virtue Don't mean to be a grump, dumping words, in a slump Modern thought got more fluff than the hair on Donald Trump And the women come and go Talking Michelangelo But they mean the ninja turtle, and I don't know I just don't know Excuse my muse losing storylines Eternal sunshine of the plotless whine—hope you don't mind My sound and fury not as purely stirring as the Bard's But existential angst is soarin' high as Kierkegaard's Used to feel I had a trail, now I bushwhack How can I wrestle God if He doesn't push back? Feel like a stranger in a strange land Twenty-something and depressed, guess it isn't what I had planned Can't stand all the brands and the logos While the Logos is a no-go—no, the truth Doesn't sell, not too well Tell me why I'm fetching books from the self-help section of hell (And every bell's like a d**h knell)