Thursday Asleep in the Chapel Letras:
three chalk outlines sleep in the dirty street and
in our beds, under the sheets, they're the halo of
guilt hanging around your neck, next to the rosary
you count, falling asleep and we're praying to
treat the symptoms of letting go of all our hope.
since we can't compete with martyred saints, we'll
douse ourselves in gasoline and hang our bodies
from the lampposts so that our shadows turn into
bright lights 'white light, white heat' we'll make
as we're blacking out in the center lane, we
swerve to the beat, spill all the ink No revisions
Do you hear the church bells ringing? wake up!!
wake up in an outline and try to speak with the
shattered voice of the lives we lead... have we
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slept too long between the bullet holes in a
stained-glass window state? when we repent, we
fall on the page (read, in the margins) we are the
symptoms of letting go of all our hope. someday
we'll be complete like modern saints, baptize our
kids in gasoline and hang our doubts up in
cathedrals so that they turn to faith in the
colored sunlight. 'red rain, red rain' we'll make
as we're blacking out in the center lane... do you
hear the church bells ringing? they ring for you.
we woke up this morning to a street filled with a
thousand burning crosses and what we thought was
the sunrise, just passing headlights still the
choir girls sing, 'oh lord, can you save us? oh
lord, sing hallelujah' they are the symptoms of
letting go of all our hope... we're falling asleep
with open eyes falling asleep inside the chapel
falling asleep in chalk outlines falling asleep as
the headlights pass us by...
Letras: Asleep in the Chapel Thursday [final]