Who's gonna save my soul now?

How will my story ever be told?

Part I - Gnarls Barkley, Who's gonna save my soul? // Part II - Gnarks Barkley, Going on
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I messed up. Broke the rules.
In my ears, the same song.

"How will my story be told now?"

The Child is the father of the Man.
It is because the Child catered to everybody's need,
that the Father broke all the rules.

"Made me feel like somebody"

I lay in bed.
A black curtain haphazardly tacked over my window.
I don't want to be needed by anyone, not even by the day.

"Like somebody else"

Genesis of Needs.
Who I am begins long before I was even capable of choosing anything.
It started in my biology.
My voice, my iris, my fingerprint, my identity.
God made that choice for me.
My first rules. My first shackles. Survival.
Needs to be fulfilled. Sinless but vulnerable.
Sleep, hunger, sex.

"Felt like I was being myself"

Family. First social contract. Corruption.
My body, my needs, my burden.
I was not self-sufficient.
Needing Others came at a price. I had to earn my place.
Love substitute. Through self-destruction.
I paid, until I couldn't afford my needs anymore.
Until scarcity breads obsession in me.
Desperation, the root of sin.
Sloth, gluttony, lust.

"Is it a shame that someone else's song
Was totally and completely depended on?"

Indebted.
To others, to myself.
A tug of war.
Wrath. Greed.

"Who's gonna save my soul now?"
"I wonder if I'll live to grow old now
Getting high 'cause I feel so alone now"

Amplified. Came the crowd. A society.
Exposed, scrutinized, judged, approved.
Rejected.
Shame turned into a system. Internalized.
Compare, hide, crave.
Pride, envy, emptied.
The looping, the heaviness, the dread.

"And maybe it's a little selfish"

Final estrangement.
Depersonalization. Souless.
When God calls, I don't answer.
"He Loves you"
I couldn’t tell Him apart from the rest
I stopped hoping He would respond differently.
I don't have anything left. Stripped from whatever I needed to believe.

"Was it possible you were hurting worse than me?"
"Still my hunger turns to greed,'cause what about what I need?"

Disappointment.
It feels like home—uncomfortable, berating, damning.
Maybe Sartre was right about Others.
Killing me slowly. A taste of hell before they send me there.
Jumping through hoops didn't come with redemption.
I was never worth more than the scraps I had to offer.
I gave up asking for heaven, I’m just trying to survive the burn.
No judgement needed, I am guilty.

"Oh, I know I'm out of control now. Tired enough to lay my own sould down."

Don't think about it.
Chase pleasure to escape.
Hell.

"When this someone spoke, I listened, all of a sudden has less and less to say"
"Oh, how could this be..."
"All this time I've lived vicariously"

I stay there.
Behind the curtain.
Where even light has learned not to knock.
I need nothing now — and I’m nobody’s need.

"Who's gonna save my soul now... How will my story ever be told now?"

//

"Anyone that needs what they want and doesn't want what they need, I want nothing to do with"

"May my love lift you up to the place you belong"

"And I promise I'll be waiting for you"

"I've seen it with my own eyes how we're getting otherwise without the luxury of leaving"

"The touch and feeling of free is intangible, technically -- something you've got to believe in"

"One foot in front of the next -- this is the start of a journey"

"My mind is already gone, and the fear of the unknown somehow just doesn't concern me"

"And you can stand right there if you want"
"But I'm going on, and I'm prepared to go it alone"