I keep trying to give my heart to something, But it slips through the cracks and gets trapped in the noise. Every rule, every form, every line that they're drawing, Pull me away from what I know, replaced with decoys. So is this fire in me still real? Is it mine to hold, mine to feel? Why's the world so loud when my heart calls out. Isn't this flame supposed to heal? Is my passion a flame that burns bright? Is it meant to be mine, a guiding light? I'm in a cycle of doubt, a battle of might. Tell me. Is my passion a flame that burns bright? So I pull back in, keep it safe and quiet. Stop taking risks just to feel okay. But the spark comes back, And I jump again into something new. Till the pendulum swings and pulls me away. I'm searching hard while feeling lost, But my fire never really gets tossed. I'm holding out for a clearer day. I'm holding out for hope to stay. Is my passion a flame that burns bright? Is it meant to be mine, a guiding light? I'm in a cycle of doubt, a battle of might. Tell me. Is my passion a flame that burns bright? Tonight my passion's lying low. Frozen under streetlights, half-asleep in the snow, Drunk on fear, on dreams, on a six-pack glow. And I'm asking the sky what no one can know: Does God believe in God? Does God believe in God? Does God believe in God? I hope hope will find its way... I hope hope will find its way... My passion, my passion. Still burning somewhere in the dark. My passion, my passion. Someday it'll reignite the spark.
