I fled the city of my birth
I can’t account for my time on earth
I’m a prodigal without much worth
I’m angry and bathed in fire
But I thought I smelled the thought of spring
When I won the thought I lost the thing
Traveling through these fiery rings
And worrying thicker skin from ever growing
Said long suffering Jesus you must love to hear your sons and daughters moan
Been running through the labyrinth without the twine
I’ve been working on a mousetrap of my own design
I’ve been haunted by winds in the tops of the pines
I’ll just win a cruise if I answer the telephone
These are the cheapest Rose glasses I’ve ever had
Won’t throw em out til I break em bad
I’d rather be miserable than merely sad
Thankful that my sadness don’t involve a lot of yelling
Said long suffering Jesus you must love to hear your sons and daughters moan
At the kitchen table in my birthday suit
I’ve been scribbling my fears til they come out cute
Another year has followed suit and everything I want just keeps getting older
The red tail lights of endless cards like constellations of endless stars in
A straight line from Venus to Mars, it’s the scale that keeps me always rebelling
Said long suffering Jesus you must love to hear your sons and daughters moan
Said long suffering Jesus you must love to hear your sons and daughters songs
Said long suffering Jesus you must love to hear your sons and daughters songs