Communion
©2003 by Drew Kolar and Mark Scheck

a knife working overtime in my brain
so much it's driving me insane as i
try to wash my hands clean
reaching out for anything
you preach
this is such a big decision

i didn't want to grow up so soon
already building my own tomb inside
a dismal cemetary
i feel so unholy, but
for you, love,
i'd give my body as communion

or would i?
will i be alright?
will i be saved
after midnight?
i can't feel my heart beating in your hands
(from your heaven) i am banned...

through me was your practice battleground
where the skeletons are always bound
forcing me to pray to something
more pure than the dirt before thou
inside of me
enough to set my soul free

inside me,
can it be alright?
nobody is saved
come Hell or Plight
and no hearts are beating in this land
our souls are buried in the sand...

decorate my body with plastic beads
cling to the pews when out of faith
in this world, am i another pawn
scrambling to create a brand new face?
set my life upon the altar
blindly judging my direction
how do you see where we are going?
i still cannot feel the connection.
i'm renouncing this religion...

or should i?
will i be alright?
will i be saved,
come Hell or Plight?
i can't feel my heart beating anymore...