And So I Was Thinking

What does all of this mean
Because I cannot feel a thing
Just when I think it's okay
You throw a wrench in my machine
Its as if I have a lamp
and all the bulbs are burnt out
I try to find a few more
but you got 'em all behind locked doors

There's a dead cat in a box
On the ground beside me
Is it a metaphor of my flesh
In this house of ill repute
Or is it just a dead cat in a box
On the ground beside me
With not meaning at all
In a world that has no meaning

Durer and Schagall don't give no alter call
So why you setting me up?
So I can take the fall like the A-team?
And B.A. Baracuss
Who likes to cause a ruckuss
Just like me and my boys in Travail
You know we're on the war path
We'll drown you in a blood bath
And you know we'll grip you fast

Some of you will hate me because of this poem
Even though my struggles you don't know 'em
You judgementalism telling me who I am
I'm sorry my friend, I'm only a man
I could be fake and force you through the door
I could be face and be a corperate whore
Or I could be real and make you think twice about
What it means to follow Jesus Christ

I'm still trying to figure you out
Sometimes you don't carry a lot of cout
but then you show me your true self
and I see how pitiful I am