It’s like the whole earth is buried with grenade
And we’re all walking on tiptoes,
afraid to make a solid step on the ground.
We make everything superficial, for the fun of it, for the money.
We hang tight onto our lies, slip bits of them into our texts and conversations.
I’m not sure why, but sometimes I think it’s either greed or fear.
We are either afraid of being alone, or greedy to have everyone coming along.
To live by truth in world of lies can feel like burning
And who wants to burn to become gold,
When all gold can be painted in pastels of lies.
But I promise you,
truth burns like incense.
scares away something toxic
and you breathe a little better,
and inside your lungs,
it starts to feel like a hallelujah,
A perfect song to sing,
For something coming alive.
Truth,
Darling,
is how we come back to life.