I built a shrine and I pay tribute every day
cut and pasted clouds hung in my skies
reminders that gods only listen to you if you pray
and that my fickle heart ain't worth their time
so I am quiet in my need
because it's mere desire, only greed
and it's a sin to pray for things
that are up to someone else entirely
heard the news when I was drunk and out of town
not thirty feet away, a freight train starts
the wind picked up and blanketed me in the sound
a lonely, lazy foghorn in my heart
so I laid back down on the curb
and I had to be home for work
but my friends pour me more, 'cause love's a battlefield
and they know that I'd been hurt
I make up for lost time with my mind
and I take confession all the time
and I've run out of wafers now
but I will substitute them with more wine
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