Like Flies To...

Maybe one morning it'll be you on the wrong side of the bed,
your memories a mutinee determined to flee from your head,
your stomach an ocean of storms, bubbling up from below,
and your ship's sunk, yeah, your ship is sitting on the ocean floor,

maybe one day, baby, your choices won't be yes or no,
and in the gray, you'll walk through places you swore you'd never go,
you'll mess up and you'll be judged by those thousand eyed
religious type flies that always flock to the waste of life,

flock to the refuse, like you do

Maybe this morning it'll be you with outstretched arms,
Eating dinner with those this falling world has charmed,
Gnawing away at the pain that so frequently enslaves
And fakes us out with false promises that hide big waves,

maybe one day, baby, we'll be intertwined in our wedding bed,
Finally realizing that love is not just some four letter word we said,
but something we're so undeserving of, and we'll be thankful too,
because while we were covered in the waste of this life, You

flock to the refuse, like You do

And if we make mistakes, you're there,
and I don't care, too much, oh yes, I suck
But if I'm going to be in love,
I gotta get out of this funk,

And when people fall around us,
instead of pointing like a fly,
we'll try to help them rise,
we'll try to help them rise
we'll try
we'll try
we'll try to help them be alive.