The Balance

When You called me from the darkness did you know that I would fall?
And if the blood is on my hands does it really matter at all?
And if the apple’s merely poison why’d you put it on my plate?
If this story’s just a rumor does it carry the same weight?

So I contemplate the weight of what it means to die
And if I think therefore I am then who the hell am I
To be cynical of questions whose answers we’ve not heard?
And when did “I don’t know” become such a dirty word?

These are the questions in between
The balance between what we think we know and what we see

So I carry on this burden our parents put on us
It’s ashes to ashes our bodies back to dust
Oh and I have heard it said “to doubt is to exist”
But it feels like mine was placed here inside my father’s rib.

These are the questions in between
The balance between what we think we know and what we see

I put my faith in ancient words I cannot read
‘Cause when I hold them up against my heart I don’t like what I see
and that’s good enough for me

When the sun sets on my anger- my suspicions long confirmed
Will my ears inspire action; ring loud with what they’ve heard?
The view from on this mountain is one I wish not to save
‘Cause if it has to be the gospel I’m afraid it has to start in the grave

These are the messages we see
In the balance between what we think we know and what we see