He's out Sunday drinking she's home at the sink, praying for his soul He swears those holy sermons, they're all self serving don't get him on a roll His creed is barstool wisdom he puts all his faith in his dumb luck Like that's never failed They got repetition but no rhyme The message and communion wine - is always stale
If you were to ask him what it is that keeps him goin He'd say I don't need a prayer I need a poem We leave like we arrived all alone Why waste my days afraid of where I'm going Anyway I got hell to pay, when I get home
It gets crowded as the sunsets hes sat staring at his empties on the bar Mary's in the corner cryin to Joseph baby this time you've gone too far The jukebox might be broken or someone's payin to keep playing In Your Eyes
If you were to ask him what it is that keeps him going He'd say I don't need a prayer I need a poem We leave like we arrived all alone Why waste my days afraid of where I'm going Anyway I got hell to pay, when I get home He'd say I don't need a prayer I need a poem We leave like we arrived all alone Why waste my days afraid of where I'm going Anyway I got hell to pay, if I ever make it homeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
