Every church has a steeple And their own form of suicide And I'd like to think if I lived through the Bible Soon after, I would have probably died But I have no weapons, just a lot of ammunition And the muddy waters I'm stepping in Until you showed me my own wisdom I promised myself I'd never neglect another gray sky Take another trip to Van Nuys and stop at Best Buy To see if the record I wrote has sold enough For me to just fade out and let time pa** by And I don't know where I stand So I guess I'll just fall apart Because I know there's blood on my hands If there's still hate in my heart I booked a flight back to Los Angeles I'll be back in the valley, I hope you can handle it Because nothing says ‘I love you' quite like your iron fist And I'm fine with it, as long as you're happy I guess there's a reason the artist is rarely in the painting A self portrait is too personal to create for sustaining So where is God in this creation, other than our clouds? This mystery we pray to, hoping it will water our grounds And I don't know where I stand So I guess I'll just fall apart Because I know there's blood on my hands If there's still hate in my heart Let this song be a memorial, to when I knew who I was I'm picturing out my burial, but my heart is afraid of love I'm afraid of love