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about

I came to Durham to study theology.

Honest theological reflection demands that you allow yourself to be confronted with the most existential of questions: Why do you believe what you believe? Who told you to believe that? How do you know to stake your life on those claims? Having your lifelong theological convictions come under examination is a frightening task.

It is only natural that adolescent-converted Christians, such as myself, would get defensive when answering questions regarding the authority of scripture, the validity of our spiritual experiences, and the incongruence of our lives when compared to our religious truth claims.

A metaphor most fitting for my first year at Duke was the image of a clown under the downpour of rain, removing the facepaint of self-projection and spiritual arrogance.

This song chronicles that daunting tormenting travailing life-birthing journey of theological and self-reflection. “I see a dying affection alive in my reflection / it’s cold / cold as the grave / if I have been sold to my deception / inject me with the infections of love / and pierce through the blood / in my veins"

lyrics

sunshine
won't break through these blinds
like i used to know
their words
empty and calloused
but i'm holding all these stones
where have i sold my soul
for what have i walked this road
if they don't call my name
am i clown in the rain

i see a dying affection
alive in my reflection
it's cold, cold as the grave
if i have been sold to my deceptions
inject me with infections of love
and pierce through the blood
in my veins

street lights
off in the distance of
a carolina night
sorrow
for my loneliest questions
my medicine, my fight
where have i sold my soul?
i was looking for a narrow road!
now they won’t call my name
i'm just a clown, let it rain

i see a dying affection
alive in my reflection
it's cold, cold as the grave
if i have been sold to my deception
inject me with infections of love
and pierce through the blood
and let it rain
let it rain

buy me a drink
i've fallen from the heights
of my belief
my eyes could not weep
deeper than this ocean
wept for me

i see a dying affection
alive in my reflection
it's cold, cold as the grave
if i have been sold to my deceptions
inject me with infections of love
and pierce through the blood
in my veins

let it rain...

credits

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