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Microscope
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Matt Johnston
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1
The city's at it's brightest
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When the sun has left it's throne,
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And the streetlights form a landing strip
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For our returning souls.
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We feed them on our mindless lust
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And we drown them in our love.
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Those feelings are hard to seperate
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Despite what we've been taught.
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There's a theory among the scholars
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That emotion is a lie,
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Peddled by the bible and engineered by Christ.
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Some God-awful conspiracy to make us think we have a soul.
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To make us certain that we're different.
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That's quite a trick he's pulled.
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It's like looking at the universe through a microscope,
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Watching people on distant stars trying hard to cope
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With the overwhelming feeling that they're not alone.
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I spend my life terrified
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That I'll find a reason to be scared.
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Right now all I have to go on
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Is a book of fairytales,
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That says I'm being chased by dragons
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Set on burning me alive,
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And if I keep trying to save myself
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I will surely die.
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I thought I heard God calling me,
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But now I'm not so sure.
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It could have been some synapse failing me.
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I hear they're not reliable.
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I've got faith,
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Yeah, I've got tonnes of it,
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But I need something clear.
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Sometimes I think my pride is all that's keeping me here.
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And some say that the horizon
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Was put there to stop us having a sense of proportion,
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Because that would destroy us.
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If we could see infinity we would just give up.
Microscope Song 🔬🦠
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