Make Believe

You read it in a lovely book
There's other lovely books to read
The trouble is, you call it faith
And treat it like a certainty
And judge
The ones
Who don't agree
With all your make-believe
I understand the desperate need
For something more than meets the eye
To think that someone's in control
That somehow there's a reason why
But people kill
And people die
And all for make-believe
It's only blasphemy
If you believe
And the butcher hones
When the rich man spends
And the shepherd tends his sheep
You were children in the darkness
And you made up things
To explain all of the wonder and the suffering
Now you're older, and you know more
But still you cling
To all that make-believe
It's only blasphemy
If you believe
And the butcher hones
When the rich man spends
And the shepherd tends his sheep
And the butcher hones
When the rich man spends
And the shepherd tends his sheep



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