Subterra - Michael Stipe's Head lyrics

Maybe religion is words in books in churches And spirit can be found in full body searches My kharma squeezed the blood from your heart I realigned your molecules and called it art You shouldn't have listened to what I said Maybe I could rent Michael Stipe's head And use it as a billboard upon which I would tell you God isn't dead I work at the circus, at night I read Tolstoy I'm a low rent, chicken fried, dog faced boy I'm a freak with a talent for discontent I'm a barker at the flap of the circus tent Mayeb I could rent Michael Stipe's head Tell it what I think, then let it tell me what I said I'm sorry to have left you gasping for hope I feel too dirty for soap Just because breathing is unbearably chancy And the sight of sore eyes keeps satan dancing Don't falter at the altar, don't drop the dime My belief in my belief can only get better in time Christ, I started out to tell you that it's all okay It seems that I've forgotten what to say Michael Stipe isn't dead Neither is his head