Confessions of the Rich Young Ruler

Feel like a stranger in a strange land
Twenty-something and depressed, guess it isn't what I had planned
Can't stand all the brands and the logos
While the Logos is a no-go—no, the truth
Doesn't sell, not too well
Tell me why I'm fetching books from the self-help section of hell

(And every bell's like a death knell)

Unfit for the modern world
Everybody selling something, got to sell yourself to get the girl
Look at me, look at me, here's my C.V.
Are you a Mac or a PC?
So take it easy on the Francis of Assisi
Don't really see the point if it don't please me

Listless at Christmas
What if I don't feel merry? Bit scary to think
I can't evolve 'cause I can't solve the missing link
Spilling ink like I'm on the brink—jump and sink
Where's God? Are my ears so flawed that the Word's unheard?
Nah, He doesn't even wink

Misty from the issues calling for tissues
Refugees, mass shootings, and the planet that we misuse
And the sick news continues into ever-new venues
What's next on the menu?
If I retreat from all your links and tweets, would that offend you?
Don't really care what you share about the darkness out there if you're blind to the demons within you

Confessions of a blessed twenty-something who's depressed
Took my restless heart to God—where's my rest?
Just trying to be honest like the Psalmist
I'm not the flyest guy, I'm not the calmest
Promised joy, but I'm sadder
You can call me Jacob's ladder 'cause I'm up and down, smile and frown
Pound for pound, no match for Old Scratch when he's unbound

I thought the truth couldn't hurt you
Then I took the red pill and I read After Virtue
Don't mean to be a grump, dumping words, in a slump
Modern thought got more fluff than the hair on Donald Trump
And the women come and go
Talking Michelangelo
But they mean the ninja turtle, and I don't know
I just don't know

Excuse my muse losing storylines
Eternal sunshine of the plotless whine—hope you don't mind
My sound and fury not as purely stirring as the Bard's
But existential angst is soarin' high as Kierkegaard's
Used to feel I had a trail, now I bushwhack
How can I wrestle God if He doesn't push back?

Feel like a stranger in a strange land
Twenty-something and depressed, guess it isn't what I had planned
Can't stand all the brands and the logos
While the Logos is a no-go—no, the truth
Doesn't sell, not too well
Tell me why I'm fetching books from the self-help section of hell

(And every bell's like a death knell)