In Church

Write me down as heavenless
Or don’t include me on your list
Son of God and Son of Man
Crouched and writing in the sand

You’ll be dead by thirty-three
Disciples laughing as you bleed
And those you called but never chose
Flipping quarters for your clothes

But god, I don’t know which is worst:
That my prayers were rehearsed
That I’m covered in dirt, or
That I was hung over in church
And my voice was the worst
And I forgot all the words
I’ll only love you ‘til it hurts
I’ll only love you ‘til it hurts

Making love in your backseat
Drunk and stupidly at peace
Think I remember getting dressed;
My mind’s kept hidden all the rest

And Man was formed from Woman’s rib:
They changed that detail for the film
The stumbling block you’ve always known
Has now become the cornerstone

And all I know I had to learn
But the river turned
Into blood and dirt
And I was hung over in church
And my whole family burned
And I was caught at my worst
When the Son of God returned
I’ll only love you ‘til it hurts
I’ll only love you ‘til it hurts