| I used to pray beside my bed
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| Like in a storybook, I knelt
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| My heart was open wide
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| Hopeful and terrified
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| But slowly all those feelings died
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| When all my little whispers
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| They vanished into nothing
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| Like reaching in your belly
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| And coming out with stuffing
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| I’m looking to the heavens
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| And screaming, «Come and get me!»
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| I could have been an angel
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| Oh, if they’d only let me
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| It’s like a personal insult from God
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| Don’t you think it’s mighty odd
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| How every time I try for grace
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| It blows up in my ugly face?
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| A personal rejection man
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| Guess I just don’t fit the plan
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| All despite my every plea
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| He closed those pearly gates on me
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| I went to worship in my teens
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| I was the youngest in that hall
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| I sat through hours of songs of praise, «Lamb of Love»
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| But still no signals from above
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| So, I wandered all around and
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| I’d visit holy places
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| But all of them were hollow
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| Not even any traces
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| And that heart began to harden
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| That hope is just a memory
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| If I meet a true believer
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| I will admit to envy
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| Yeah, «Fuck the things you know
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| And fuck who told you so
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| It’s a medieval a rumor
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| And I lost my sense of humor
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| 'Cause everything will rot
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| Yeah, this is all you got
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| Take care of yourself
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| There ain’t nobody else»
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| It’s a personal insult from God
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| Don’t you think it’s mighty odd
|
| Every time I try for grace
|
| It blows up in my ugly face?
|
| Personal rejection man
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| Guess I just don’t fit the plan
|
| All despite my every plea
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| He slammed those pearly gates
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| And this time it’s personal
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| Bodies in the river
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| History in my hands
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| I read the ancient books
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| And I don’t understand
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| Dull words don’t deliver
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| In churches built on sand
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| I’m barred from entry to the promised land
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| This time it’s personal
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| It’s like a personal insult from God
|
| Don’t you think it’s mighty odd
|
| Every time I try for grace
|
| It blows up in my ugly face?
|
| Personal rejection man
|
| Guess I just don’t fit the plan
|
| All despite my every plea
|
| He closed those pearly gates on me
|
| Personally stole from Him
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| Feel His fingers digging in
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| Choking out my spirit with a beatific grin
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| And still so silent |