I heard about your gentlemen callers.
They weren’t so gentle at all.
They crushed you like snow on the flowers.
You’ve lived your life with your back to the wall.
Your facts are wrapped up in fiction.
Only your lies are true.
And the politics of addiction
have made a fucking politician of you.
And I’ve never been the one
to cast judgments on the sun
for shining
but you are not the sun.
I’ve been hearing about you lately.
I guess you’ve been making the rounds.
And I know you probably hate me
because I wouldn’t follow you down.
I’d never try to explain.
I’ve never traveled on the path you’ve trod.
But I know that nothing can save you, girl
short of an act of God.
Chorus