I moved myself west to find a philosophy,
to learn my geography at best.
Where the mountains are cold,
the rain drops it's tears, I'm told.
Amongst the ashes a heart of gold, they say.
I guess it's best to imagine it that way.
So I bought me a book to teach me the ways of God,
to open my tarnished heart from it.
Started praisin' the Lord & talkin' in tongues & code;
I did repairs on that broken road back home.
I guess it's better than being alone.
And now to death: I'm dying.
To love: I'm trying.
To God: I'm lying again.
And to my Ma: I've failed you.
To my Pa: I [always] blamed you.
And to God: I have shamed you again.
So I moved myself out, I pictured a better home-
a lawn full of marigolds, I guess.
I headed back east, started thinking my hope away,
depression was the one to stay since then.
Now, I take pills to push it from my head.
Yes, I take pills to push it from my head.
And now to death: I'm dying.
To love: I'm trying.
To God: I'm lying again.
And to my Ma: I've failed you.
To my Pa: I [always] blamed you.
And to God: I have shamed you again.
To God: I have shamed you again.
To God: I have shamed you again.
Again.

INVIA LE CORREZIONI