Types Of Evil

When I crossed off the cross, I uncrossed my fingers
I was only lying to myself like lying on a bed of nails with the weight upon my chest from all my forbidden failures
It was the pressure of my priors weighing down on my priorities
I wanted to dream bigger than the bigotry that surrounded me, but when I sleep
I find no ease until I think of my tomb and how I'd rather be there than be here with you
Living in the fear of god or dying in the news
Between the church and the media, we're bound to be abused by one of the two types of evil

And I'll hang myself from the radio towers
And steeples as a symbol of generation death because we the people don't give a shit about what's best as long as it appears like we do
Everybody's losing sight and I'm just losing sleep
Feeling out of step with counting the black sheep
This world and me are both awful and off sync
Nocturnal, not breathing, graveyard breach
And as a ghost, I watch people twitch as the gears twist
Between their ears as they face what their fear is
Close your eyes, we know that's how you're trained
Having the choice is the difference between the darkness and the shade the universe gets the blame
That's okay, because this life is a game of give up and take away
What goes around comes around in a noose that's homemade and sometimes a rope break is the toll that it takes to learn
That there's more than one way to do everything
And that sin is only washable in a faith that's completely optional so I'll bleach all the skeletons that I have by the closetful
And if the world is so colorful
Why do we skew our optical into a black and white state of mind of wrong or right
It's always both
It's always the types of evil and it's always me
It's in my pupils, devilishly
The lesser evil, but not seemingly
You see Satan, but I see more wicked things
Inside your realities
Gouging your own eyes out with a crucifix
It won't fix the facts that you saw the sin as you committed
You exploited your own innocence and it left you blind as a mole and empty as a mold of a man who exchanged a cheap break for self-control and a promise of a paradise
To quickly apologize to live and lead a paradox even though it's a paradigm for hatred
And if this life is what you make it, I hope you like sleeping on your self-built bed of nails
Chewing down your nail bed
Evil elegance blooms the apocalypse as we eclipse ourselves in the loom
Decomposing light but consuming doom
One pitchfork at a time, we poison ourselves to kill the truth that failure is in fear
That fear is a lie, a lie, a lie, a lie
Alive in you