Keep the Faith
Rooftops
When our time is up
When our lives are done
Will we say we've had our fun?
Will we make a mark, this time,
Will we always say we tried?
He stood at the top, staring down at the traffic below, questioning every thought his mind hurled in his direction. His caramel eyes shined with something you couldn’t be sure of. Insanity, maybe. Or maybe the depression that had invaded his mind for so long now. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t mind. It was all over. Nearly there.
Standing on the rooftops,
Everybody scream your heart out.
He thought about what had driven him this far. He thought about why he was standing here, why everything had to happen this way. He closed his eyes, tears making their way down his pale face, dripping onto his shirt. They soaked through to his skin, sending chills down his spine in the February wind.
Not now, his mind pleaded. Don’t think about it now.
So many things had happened, so many people had let him down, so many people had given up. He cringed. Given up. On him. It was like he was some toy, machine, or book, that people tried to use, read, but they lost interest, and gave up.
He was not some book. He was not to be read and tossed aside. He hadn’t wanted it to work like that, and yet, it had.
It’s never the answer, his own words rang through his head slowly, as he continued to stare down at the passing city cars and people. They had no idea what he was about to do. He was a spec in the sand, and blur in the big picture. For once.
All the love I've met,
I have no regrets,
If it all ends now, I'm set,
Will we make a mark, this time?
Will we always say we tried?
Fans didn’t understand. Friends made it hard. Relapse was really just the straw that broke the camel’s back, in everyone else’s eyes, when he thought about it.
It wasn’t meant to happen. It wasn’t meant to be like this. He knew that. Friends knew that. But it still did. It still happened. He was still left here, alone, in the end.
What a misery real life was. If only he could have lived in the fairy tales forever. People admired him, friends were proud of him, he was clean, and happy.
But everything must end sometime or another. That dreaded feeling in the pit of his stomach had always sat there, waiting for it to happen. The feeling knew it would happen. It settled in his stomach whilst he lay awake at night thinking about everything.
And eventually, as it predicted, everything blew up. He was a scam. How dare they say that? He never meant any of it. Why would they think that. He copied lyrics, and took them and claimed them as his own. No such thing. Never.
How could they lose faith so easily?
Just like you’ve lost it? His mind rang out. You’ve lost faith, so why shouldn’t they? He shook his head. No.
No, everything couldn’t just end.
But it can, his mind spoke, once again. It can. And it will. He shivered again as the February air swept across the rooftop.
“I didn’t know someone was up here,” A voice rang out. He spun around, terrified that person might recognize him, and tell the world the he; Gerard Way, was about to jump. “There usually never is,” She continued, walking closer.
She was somewhat of a plain looking girl, looking to be in her mid-teens. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pink tiny square-like glasses that glinted in the cold sunlight now and then. Her lips were molded into thin, set lines, and her eyes looked worn down, tired.
“There’s something about staring down there,” She whispered, sitting down, and peering over the edge. He stared at her in shock. When he thought about it, he realized that most children and teens had almost no problem talking to complete strangers. “It’s like…staring at what could be your death trap,” She continued. “But then – then there’s this moment that hits me every time.”
“What kind of moment?” He asked.
He has surprised himself, quite honestly. The girl looked bewildered, that he'd spoken.
“That maybe I shouldn’t let society get to me,” She murmured, casting a glance back down at the city twelve stories below.
“Society?” he asked.
“- Is a bitch,” She retorted.
He looked blankly at her, before slowly smirking. “True.”
“No,” She sighed. “Society just doesn’t get some people,” She finally answered honestly. “When I’m up here, there’s always that constant thought, Will I jump?” She grimaced. “And then I think, ‘No. No, I have to prove that I’m strong. That I won’t let people get to me. It’s like fighting a disease. You just have to keep going. Get it?”
“No.” He replied truthfully. “I would jump. I wouldn’t be able to take it.”
“Oh? It’s weak,” She said, her voice on edge. “It would be a weak thing to do. It’s a…faith kind of thing,” her lips turned up in a gentle smile at her own choice of words. “A faith kind of thing.”
“There’s no faith here,” He said.
“Really?” She asked. “None? In yourself? In others?”
“No.” Honest answer. Better to be brutally honest.
“Shame,” She said, standing back up. “Remember. Society’s weak. They don’t know what they’re talking about. You have to believe in yourself. It gets you nowhere if you don’t.” She walked back towards the door that led to the stairs.
“You don’t care if I jump?” He asked, bewildered.
“I don’t think you will,” She spoke softly, not turning to look at him. “I think you’re better than that.”
And she walked away.
Standing on the rooftops
Everybody scream your heart out
This is all we got now
Everybody scream your…
Can’t jump now.
When our lives are done
Will we say we've had our fun?
Will we make a mark, this time,
Will we always say we tried?
He stood at the top, staring down at the traffic below, questioning every thought his mind hurled in his direction. His caramel eyes shined with something you couldn’t be sure of. Insanity, maybe. Or maybe the depression that had invaded his mind for so long now. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t mind. It was all over. Nearly there.
Standing on the rooftops,
Everybody scream your heart out.
He thought about what had driven him this far. He thought about why he was standing here, why everything had to happen this way. He closed his eyes, tears making their way down his pale face, dripping onto his shirt. They soaked through to his skin, sending chills down his spine in the February wind.
Not now, his mind pleaded. Don’t think about it now.
So many things had happened, so many people had let him down, so many people had given up. He cringed. Given up. On him. It was like he was some toy, machine, or book, that people tried to use, read, but they lost interest, and gave up.
He was not some book. He was not to be read and tossed aside. He hadn’t wanted it to work like that, and yet, it had.
It’s never the answer, his own words rang through his head slowly, as he continued to stare down at the passing city cars and people. They had no idea what he was about to do. He was a spec in the sand, and blur in the big picture. For once.
All the love I've met,
I have no regrets,
If it all ends now, I'm set,
Will we make a mark, this time?
Will we always say we tried?
Fans didn’t understand. Friends made it hard. Relapse was really just the straw that broke the camel’s back, in everyone else’s eyes, when he thought about it.
It wasn’t meant to happen. It wasn’t meant to be like this. He knew that. Friends knew that. But it still did. It still happened. He was still left here, alone, in the end.
What a misery real life was. If only he could have lived in the fairy tales forever. People admired him, friends were proud of him, he was clean, and happy.
But everything must end sometime or another. That dreaded feeling in the pit of his stomach had always sat there, waiting for it to happen. The feeling knew it would happen. It settled in his stomach whilst he lay awake at night thinking about everything.
And eventually, as it predicted, everything blew up. He was a scam. How dare they say that? He never meant any of it. Why would they think that. He copied lyrics, and took them and claimed them as his own. No such thing. Never.
How could they lose faith so easily?
Just like you’ve lost it? His mind rang out. You’ve lost faith, so why shouldn’t they? He shook his head. No.
No, everything couldn’t just end.
But it can, his mind spoke, once again. It can. And it will. He shivered again as the February air swept across the rooftop.
“I didn’t know someone was up here,” A voice rang out. He spun around, terrified that person might recognize him, and tell the world the he; Gerard Way, was about to jump. “There usually never is,” She continued, walking closer.
She was somewhat of a plain looking girl, looking to be in her mid-teens. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pink tiny square-like glasses that glinted in the cold sunlight now and then. Her lips were molded into thin, set lines, and her eyes looked worn down, tired.
“There’s something about staring down there,” She whispered, sitting down, and peering over the edge. He stared at her in shock. When he thought about it, he realized that most children and teens had almost no problem talking to complete strangers. “It’s like…staring at what could be your death trap,” She continued. “But then – then there’s this moment that hits me every time.”
“What kind of moment?” He asked.
He has surprised himself, quite honestly. The girl looked bewildered, that he'd spoken.
“That maybe I shouldn’t let society get to me,” She murmured, casting a glance back down at the city twelve stories below.
“Society?” he asked.
“- Is a bitch,” She retorted.
He looked blankly at her, before slowly smirking. “True.”
“No,” She sighed. “Society just doesn’t get some people,” She finally answered honestly. “When I’m up here, there’s always that constant thought, Will I jump?” She grimaced. “And then I think, ‘No. No, I have to prove that I’m strong. That I won’t let people get to me. It’s like fighting a disease. You just have to keep going. Get it?”
“No.” He replied truthfully. “I would jump. I wouldn’t be able to take it.”
“Oh? It’s weak,” She said, her voice on edge. “It would be a weak thing to do. It’s a…faith kind of thing,” her lips turned up in a gentle smile at her own choice of words. “A faith kind of thing.”
“There’s no faith here,” He said.
“Really?” She asked. “None? In yourself? In others?”
“No.” Honest answer. Better to be brutally honest.
“Shame,” She said, standing back up. “Remember. Society’s weak. They don’t know what they’re talking about. You have to believe in yourself. It gets you nowhere if you don’t.” She walked back towards the door that led to the stairs.
“You don’t care if I jump?” He asked, bewildered.
“I don’t think you will,” She spoke softly, not turning to look at him. “I think you’re better than that.”
And she walked away.
Standing on the rooftops
Everybody scream your heart out
This is all we got now
Everybody scream your…
Can’t jump now.