Kilgore

Señorita beefeater

Kilgore
Everyone's footsteps pound like hammers
to my brain
And all the lives I've broke
And all that remains
Everything, everyone around me reminds me
Of my sins
If I was Mr. Turtle Man
I'd pull my head back in
I'm not your Jesus
I'm not your
Here in my shell, alone I dwell
My so called friends come with pitchforks
And drag me off to hell
'Cuz I made too many promises
That I can't alter
I may look like your Jesus
But I can't walk on water
I'm not your Jesus
I'm not your
False, indifference
Not really here right
Just a lump of clay with a crown of thorns
Could've been the leader of the master race
Or a Greek poet before I was born
My soul is not my own
It's shared with a thousand fading dreams
Exposed to the naked eye is why
I'm always picked last on the team
I'm not your Jesus
I'm not your
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