Keep the Faith

Do remember that church down the street from where we grew up? Such a strange area for a church, but it was always a beautiful one. We’d always walk down to it and sit in the pews, even before it closed down. It did, a few years ago, and it’s still there.

It’s all different now, Gerard, all different. When we were kids, we used to admire the pure white walls. They’re not white anymore, Gee, they’re not. It’s all dirt and grime and leaves, and you can barely tell what it used to be.

There are vines growing up the sides, obscuring the views we used to love. Where there aren’t vines, there’s graffiti, the marks of a thousands dares and entry rites. It’s corrupted, nothing like the place we used to walk to.

It’s raining as I walk there, pouring your tears. I know when I tell you I’ve been to the church, you’ll wish I’d told you, you’ll want to come. But this time, I need to be alone. I need to think.

The door creaks behind me when I close it, but it’s always done that. A small bit of familiarity in a place it seems like I’ve never been.

It’s so different, but you’d like it, Gerard. It’s beautiful.

Grass is covering the floor, and you can’t even see the carpet anymore. Flowers are growing, and the pews are colorful with them. I feel bad walking through them, killing them, it seems.

I sit down in the front and just stare at the cross in front of the church. It’s a dark wood, like the pencils you used to draw it. It’s covered with vines, but it’s still there. I think over my position and kneel instead.

I don’t know who I’m talking to, exactly. And I don’t exactly care. But I’m praying for your help, to help you see again. To help you see how much we love you. How much we’re always there for you. How hurt we’d be if anything happened to you.

I can’t see why you think we don’t care about you. We do, we care about you and we care about the band and we care about your future.

Are those clouds in the way, Gee? Do they block how much we care?

I'm looking through the church and realizing that it's you. It's all you, Gerard, but knee-deep in analogies that even you wouldn't touch.

Maybe your walls aren’t white anymore, and you’re not all that innocent. But that wasn’t your choice, was it? And it doesn’t hurt your beauty, only builds it.

There’s dirt in your life, on your floor, but the flowers cheer it up. Cheer it up falsely, hide it, those skeletons you refuse to put away.

And your spirit, that cross. It’s hidden, yes. It’s old and worn, yes. But it’s there. It’s there and holding strong and with those walls, our support, it will never come down.

I sigh and look out the window. The stained glass has broken in, and the clouds are retreating.

I look to the altar just in time to see light begin to stream through the colored glass, restoring the church’s old grace, in a new and beautiful way.

All we have to do is keep the faith in you.
All you have to do is keep the faith in us.
All we have to do is keep the world’s faith.