Sam is That You? Or is That Someone Else?

We are all cowards
And I’m the biggest coward of them all
Tip toe around the lake of fire
With a smile on my face.

We are all fake
And I’m the fakest of them all
Wearing that joker mask
Instead of my real sad skin

We are all hypocrites
And I’m the biggest hypocrite of them all
With a skip in my step
And a joke in my mouth

Those who shift through the madness
Those who fight away the demons
Those demons that spell out doom
Those are the ones who live
The ones who the rest admire
The ones we all should strive to become.

When Your Bones Know Better Than To Listen To You

If people would, just admit the obvious
That they don’t give a …… about you
Then things would be easier

You see, the brain it thinks things,
And likes to believe what it believes
Despite what logic has to say

Deep in your bones, you feel a creaking
That’s the truth trying to seep out.
Something that can’t be true

Oh but it is, it most certainly is
So don’t be mad at your bones
You know they mean well.

You may feel small, insignificant really
But that’s a part you play
In other people’s lives you see.

And life, it’s a theatrical play
With costumes and lines to memorize
A script you must go by

If you don’t, God help you
If you go off the beaten path
To try to make something different appear

Now I know, I realize how sad
How sad and depressing this seems
But that’s just a matter of opinion

For some, some of us enjoy it
And get some sort of thrill out of it all
Which is why I’m sitting alone with a smile on my face.

The True Story of Cold Steel Vol. II

Is this a waste?
A robot floating in deep space?
Surrounded by the cold and the bleak
In places the sun couldn’t reach.

What a waste.
The robot floating in space.
With stars and rockets and meteors
All seemingly whizzing past

His eyes closed.
His circuits had stopped beeping
And his program had shorted out
As he tumbled into the ever after.

Then a light.
Surrounded his tumbling remains
And a woman in white appeared
Asking him to wake up.

He’s not a waste.
His eyes flicker open
And he stares into her light.
And she envelopes him.

They twirl and twirl
As his insides begin to work
And his cold machinery warms
As they dance in the night.

The years pass
And she grows old
And time takes her away
And he’s alone again.

What a waste.
The steel becomes cold again
And he becomes lifeless
And twirls into his end.

The True Story of Brandon Ruthinsgoodberg

He walked down the street
As the music beats
With a jacket over himself

Passed the burned out buildings
And crumbling ceilings
Muttering to himself.

He got to a crowd
And among the sounds
He tried to scream his best

They paid him no attention
Until he thought to mention
That he had a bomb strapped to his chest.

They asked him why
And he could not lie
So he told them the reason.

There was a voice in his head
And it was God he said.
And he couldn’t afford treason.

Although it was no fun
God’s will must be done
He told his wife he loved her.

But she didn’t understand
That this was God’s plan
Soon it would all be over.

He pulled the pin
Let the explosion begin
The debris was a flying.

Forty five people around
Who heard the sound
And now they lie around dying.

Yet Another Ballad Concerning a Lonely Soul

Born alone, and alone I’ll die.
She told me I’d die alone
And alone I might be.

Wake up alone, and alone when I sleep
She told me I’d be alone
And alone I might be

Walk alone, and alone I walk
She told me I’d walk alone
And alone I might be.

Live alone, and alone I’ll live
She told me I’d live alone
And alone I might be.

The True Story Of Cold Steel

A robot was made

Out of metal and clay

And it was powered by the sun.

 

Due to his program

He had lots of friends

Who appreciated how he was differently made

 

As time went on

He felt he belonged

With humans and with their kind

 

From the start

A robot with a heart

And that’s what separated him.

 

But soon madness

Sprinkled in with sadness

As he wondered for what purpose he served.

 

The metal inside

It began to die

Along with his spark from within.

 

As time went on

He felt more alone

And the lights in his eyes faded out

What We Become

without you we turn into beasts
with foul breath and sharp teeth
we tear each other and rip into ourselves
and we are all for sell

without you we kick and we scream
as we cry out we forgot how to dream
the darkness spreads and our lights grow dim
as our ghosts wonder what happened to them.

our steeples will come crashing down
smashing all underneath to the ground
our towers of Babel stretching into the air
when for You we no longer care

we are like Peter when he did deny
we are like Judas leading to you being crucified
as the heavens wept when the Son did die
our towers of Babel still standing in the sky

Who is the Villain

Do villains realize they’re the villain
Or is it they just believe they’re doing what’s right
And everyone else just disagrees. 

Maybe I’m the villain and I just don’t know it.
Surrounded by the plea of the Hero
And splashing around in their sorrows

The Hero stands for righteousness
Saving the women and the children
While chaos rains down across the globe.

The ground I walk on is already destroyed
From the previous scorched earth policy
Waiting for the Hero to put out the flames.

I can’t be the villain much longer.
These flames are suffocating me
I’m waiting on the Hero to pull me out.

In an Attempt to Not Feel Useless

Clasp your hands

Clasp them tight

And pray that God will rescue you

 

 

For we are suffering

And we are pathetic

And there is nothing that we can do.

Will Faith Be Enough or Will There Be More Required to Advance to the Next Level?

As the dirt piles up in front of my grave
I’ll take three steps back and help
Those digging the hole…

Under the moon lit sky of the engraved rock
Are the words to remember me by
Where my head will rest…

The stars shine enough illuminating yellow
To lead me to where I should dig
Pushing the shovel into the dirt.

As I throw my body down into the dirt
I smell the earth as I begin to pray
For my soul to survive

When the Son of God comes to visit
To take those souls away
Out of their dirty graves

As the dirt piles up in front of my grave
I’ll take three steps back and hope
That I’m good enough….

Watching as the gravedigger
Throws dirt on my soul
I begin to pray