My mother said things are fine and turned the other way
My troubles she said go way back far before your day
But things are all right
She said it's alright you could see it on her face
Her days of praise had gone astray and moved on to
another place my father threw up his arms in a cold
aggressive rage I've been fighting my conscience years
now every single day we live alone now but no one is
to blame his days away go unexplained things will never
be the same what's there to pray about?
letting go is not so simple what's there to pray about?
I should have picked another hero