I see the candles lit by fools for the dead.
Refusing their choice, I turn my head.
A thousand flames, a thousand lies.
It's just so easier to not deny, but.
Science has made me too numb to feel
Too cold to believe that God might be real.
I look upon those begging to differ with a frown,
Knowing that someday we'll rot in the ground.
It must be so much easier to just trick yourself,
But I prefer to confront the lives we were dealt -
Short, simple and clear, and quite grandiose
Besides, whether the soul exists nobody knows.
So I'll simply choose my own beliefs, not to be rude.
It's not that it makes me any better than you.
But look at yourselves, living beliefs so false
When there really isn't any God at all.