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Hotel Books – Van Nuys

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Hotel Books - Van Nuys

Every church has a steeple
And their own form of suicide
And I’d like to think if I lived through the Bible
Soon after, I would have probably died

But I have no weapons, just a lot of ammunition
And the muddy waters I’m stepping in
Until you showed me my own wisdom
I promised myself I’d never neglect another gray sky
Take another trip to Van Nuys and stop at Best Buy
To see if the record I wrote has sold enough
For me to just fade out and let time pass by

And I don’t know where I stand
So I guess I’ll just fall apart
Because I know there’s blood on my hands
If there’s still hate in my heart

I booked a flight back to Los Angeles
I’ll be back in the valley, I hope you can handle it
Nothing says ‘I love you’ quite like your iron fist
And I’m fine with it, as long as you’re happy

I guess there’s a reason the artist is rarely in the painting
A self portrait is too personal to create for sustaining
So where is God in this creation, other than our clouds?
This mystery we pray to, hoping it will water our grounds

And I don’t know where I stand
So I guess I’ll just fall apart
Because I know there’s blood on my hands
If there’s still hate in my heart

Let this song be a memorial, to when I knew who I was
I’m picturing out my burial, but my heart is afraid of love
I’m afraid of love

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