Naive

Religion is a breeding groundwhere the devil's work is deeply found,with teeth as sharp as cathedral spires,slowly sinking in.God knows that I've been naivebut I think it makes him proud of me.Now it's so hard to separatemy disappointments from his name.Because shadows stretch behind the truth,where stained glass offers broken cluesand fear ties knots and pulls them tight.It leaves us paralyzed.But in the end such tired words will rest.The truth will reroute the narrow things they've said.The marionette strings will lower and untieand out of the ashes, love will be realized.God knows that we've been naiveand a bitnearsighted to say the least.It's broken glass at children's feetthat gets swept aside unexpectedly.