Alone in his empty room He read that book page by page In search of truth Of comfort or some hope He read If you knock, my door will open But those he tried were all locked tight Like flickering lights Bits of memories crossed his mind Countless shattered pieces That refused to fall in place He read I'll search for all the lost ones But how much more lost could he be He shook his fist at heaven Stood up for all the broken souls I will not forget the words He spoke to me that day He said Man, if you believe, would you ask one question In my name because to me God never speaks: Does he still rest on Sundays, and look at his creation, And think it was good? He could barely breathe
Hardly grab just one clear thought The walls were closing in on him His time was running out He read If you ask, you will be given And he thought of everything he had lost He shook his fist at heaven Stood up for all the broken souls I will not forget the words He spoke to me that day He said Man, if you believe, would you ask one question In my name because to me God never speaks: Does he still rest on Sundays, and look at his creation, And think it was good? Does he think it was good? It was a brief encounter But after all these years it's still on my mind Nobody mourned for him There were no flowers on his grave I hope at last you got your answer And if so, would you let me know?