It's the search for a church in the bottom of your purse A spiritual home that you can take to the mall You dig and you dig but you can only find your wallet And your phone with a hundred missed calls You could never return them all
And I watch you with your purse from the adjacent coffee table At the Starbucks they built inside my heart When your makeup starts to run I can see you're getting older I can see your life has been hard Your face is worn like an old playing card The Queen of Hearts
I am working in my bedroom, I'm composing all the music For a film that will never by made It's the story of my life, a 1, 000, 000-hour epic About a good man who went down in flames Who got lost in God's multitude of names
I am searching, I am searching, I am waving my antennae Trying to pick up some signal through this dream I'm an ant in a hill, but I think and I feel And I'm composing these love letters to the Queen Hoping somebody will see what I mean The Queen of Hearts
I always heart about God with a wink and a nod I guess I took it all too seriously But I was five years old and I took what I was told To mean that the sublime was in my reach That the ocean of the known ends at the beach Just up the street
But these days people like that are considered aberrations And I'm being corrected as we speak This is my heart, it's a motor, it will search the world over A search engine--see what I mean I don't need the Internet, I don't need TV To find the Queen
So if you ever find that church that fits in your purse Put it into your cold metal shopping cart And keep on wandering the aisles on the sick fluorescent tiles WE'll be miles and miles apart I've got my own search and I'm still just at the start I'll be out on the highways looking for my counterpart The Queen of HeartsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
