When I go kneel before Him on the last turn of the clock
Think I’ll be wearing all American Apparel
And smelling like a girl with a single father
Think he’ll like that, come that day.
When he wills my chin up and asks
Why through life I didn’t often stick to the script
And pushed my luck real far real far
I won’t have an answer, I don’t think I will.
Cute story, I once
Was what you thought I ought to be like
But then after a few runs
All the sugar hit me a bit too hard.
