Sometimes I’m a Christian boy, staring at the sky basking in his glory ∙ sometimes I’m the devil’s toy, wondering how could anyone believe this story ∙ cause when I look around I find no trace of divine plan ∙ but I sure don’t have no place in the leadership of man ∙ so wrong or right I’ll try to be a Christian boy tonight ∙ when I was younger it was understood you want to go to heaven so you better be good ∙ cause God is up there counting sins, there surely ain’t no fooling him ∙ so you better treat each other like you should ∙ but somewhere down the road they changed their tune ∙ said “those who follow Jesus rise, the rest are left to ruin” ∙ so somewhere in a prison cell a man who spent life raising hell and sending folks to early graves found Jesus, now that man is saved ∙ so those of us who swim in doubt who haven’t got you figured out are left to drown without a prayer ∙ now tell me God, how is that fair ∙ cause you keep all the answers close, the ones that people need the most ∙ while those who try to find the clues are more and more disproving you ∙ but proof is what we need right now, you keep your silence up somehow ∙ when once upon a time you spoke directly to the common folk like me ∙ I’m not a good man but I’m not a bad man ∙ and I could get over my fear if you could once appear to me too ∙ and change my point of view ∙ they say that Jesus wants to be your friend ∙ a strong and true companion to the end ∙ and someday he will reappear but considering his last time here don’t blame him if he don’t show up again ∙ but still he wants to lend a guiding hand ∙ to help you with your troubles, even carry you through sand ∙ and he will reach as far as you, or farther if you want him to ∙ there’s nothing here that he don’t understand ∙ so should I tell him about the time that I got drunk and never mind ∙ I really don’t know what to say you know my secrets anyway ∙ so why would you spend time with me you are a perfect deity ∙ and I am just another soul with no direction or control ∙ and you are good, your story too but maybe too good to be true ∙ and all that we can do is wait ∙ to analyze, to speculate ∙ a flash of light in mortal storm ∙ a bedtime tale to keep us warm ∙ a fabrication of the state to scare us into having faith in you ∙ sometimes I love you ∙ sometimes I hate you ∙ sometimes I wonder what the hell I’m thinking believing in you ∙ and sometimes I want paradise so what’s the price to get in so I can be a Christian boy