It's Not OK!

As I read these verses it's interesting
I can't help but hear Dave Matthews sing,
Eat drink and be merry for tomorrow we'll die
And of course he sounds a lot better than I do
But I hear such strain in his voice
A hollow longing filled with fear
And it calls me to sprint back to the little bit of something that I know
That something that gives me hope, it resonates within me, calling me to die daily

Some days I do die, I kill myself quickly, and it's painless, and even more so satisfying
But most days I spend frolicking in facades of obedience
I can easily go weeks completely captivated by myself
Comfort, control, and selfish gain rule every single membrane
And I lie down one night after days of seeking self
Tired, ready for rest, and I realize that it's all been lived in vain

Emptiness fills the room and darkens the absence of light
For a moment I'm brought to my knees and I cry out
Seeking forgiveness and strength for repentance
But I'm worn from walking through desert hotter than my feet were meant to stand
And I fall into a deep sleep only to wake on the other side of the darkness
Awake to repeat another sixteen hours of searching for satisfaction
Because my eyes look past the simplicity of the prize

Maybe it's because I don't truly believe that a man born of a virgin could live a perfect life and die for my freedom
Maybe I can't comprehend that a man could be raised again to conquer death
Or maybe I am a fickle follower, falling down but being lifted up with the suppression of self, the daily recognition that there is more
Cause there's got to be more than all that my lustful heart desires
There's got to be more than all I've been dying to live for

I've sat with friends and slit my wrists to bleed desires that are being manifest in my heart
Only to watch their eyes grow pale and glossy at the thought of losing me
It's so frustrating, I feel like there's a wall built between my heart and my actions
A barrier separating my passions and my brothers and sisters
I"d like to kick the originator of the, it's ok to sow your wild oats mentality, in the chest with metal cleats on!
Because it's not ok, it's not ok to molest purity for the sake of temporary satisfaction
It's not ok, but it's so easy, it's so natural, and it's so hollow
So tomorrow morning I'll wake up and sprint to that little bit of something I know
That apart from some man dying and being raised again
I'm left to spend another day seeking satisfaction from men
And it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok to sacrifice perfection at the alter of temporary satisfaction