couldn't be made...   dirt like this   rather be the spit   for a thirsty dog      shatter my veins   the frozen blood won't feel   as I scatter myself across   some summer field      it's denial   to believe in nothing   no deals with faith   and faith...alone      comfort is...   as comfort does   and comfort comes to those   who rise above   yes it does      one thing for certain,   last time I checked,   the cult of truth   fallen from its place      dress it up,   and call it what you will   there's a cult of love   standing on its face      there's a cult of love...   on its face...