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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
Mother is busy, she won't even miss me And so busy praying she won't see me waiting I hate all your reasons, they just point to Jesus You can't be awakened when you're not mistaken And I hate your voice, and that fucked up noise And your cliches and the things that you'd say to me When they burned me then they still seer today Embedded in a memory that won't change How can you talk to god When you wont talk to me? So I begged you just for a word That through the day you might have heard And she wouldn't listen to my words And always I'll remember some good times and Some winters in times when I wasn't 'too dirty for mud.' When you'd hit your boys in that fucked up voice on your black days, O' the things that you'd say to me When they burned me Yeah, they burned me O' they burned me Yeah, they burned me I know every little word of all the things that I have heard So how can you talk to God when you won't talk to me? Someday you'll be better than me Yes, someday you'll be better than me But you won't talk to me |