Holy

You've got it all, But you've got it all wrong. You don't know you're a poor unfortunate soul. Oh I know, You make it seem that you feel whole, So they don't know you're a poor unfortunate soul. You put on a faith facade, Think you're holy when you're not. I hate to break it to you baby, But you're simply lost. You can right all the wrongs just to feel you belong, But simply calling out sins don't bring you closer to God. You're just a ghost at most, A set of empty bones, Searching for anything and everything to make you feel whole, When it gets cold. You don't know. No you don't know. You're all alone, You poor unfortunate soul. You can't control where your body let's you go. You're all alone, You poor unfortunate soul. And you say that I've got it all wrong. 'Cause you just know I'm a poor unfortunate soul. But there's no way that there's weight in the words that you preach, When you're claiming your faith and you contradict your speech. So I sit here and listen to your tongue and cheek, I know that when you sit and pray you're only praying for keeps. Cause you're a ghost at most, A set of empty bones, Searching for anything and everything to make you feel whole, When it gets cold. You don't know. No you don't know. You're all alone, You poor unfortunate soul. You can't control where your body let's you go. You're all alone, You poor unfortunate soul. You're shallow and empty and filled with regret. I think that chest must be heavy from that cross on your neck you only wear 'cause you're weary of what comes next after you're death. Don't think I didn't notice.