Talking To God

Mother is busy, she won't even miss me

And so busy praying she won't see me waiting

I hate all your reasons, they just point to Jesus

You can't be awakened when you're not mistaken



And I hate your voice, and that fucked up noise

And your cliches and the things that you'd say to me

When they burned me then they still seer today

Embedded in a memory that won't change



How can you talk to god

When you wont talk to me?



So I begged you just for a word

That through the day you might have heard

And she wouldn't listen to my words

And always I'll remember some good times and

Some winters in times when I wasn't 'too dirty for mud.'



When you'd hit your boys in that fucked up voice on your black days,

O' the things that you'd say to me

When they burned me

Yeah, they burned me

O' they burned me

Yeah, they burned me



I know every little word of all the things that I have heard

So how can you talk to God when you won't talk to me?



Someday you'll be better than me

Yes, someday you'll be better than me

But you won't talk to me