The air is angry today
It's tight and still like it's just holding its breath, and it
Feels like I showed up to late. Was I just
Sitting pretty waiting for a swift painless end?
Spent thirty years underground
Stuffed inside a box, dressed in a suit and a tie
Barely making a sound
Dreaming of a gown and rooms with views of the sky
But I'm not coming home
No I'm not coming home
I'm not your wayward sister
Ain't your prodigal son
I'm not angry but I'm not coming home
The sky is seething today, there was a
Time when I'd have said that god was shedding his tears
But now I know it's only the rain, if someone's
Crying it's the earth bearing the weight of our fears
I feel alone and exposed
It's just my bright red heart against the stark grey sky
My only power is my own
There's no one flying in to save me so I might as well fight
And now I'm not coming home
Whither thou goest I no longer will go
Ain't your repentant harlot
Or your Saul on the road
Don't need forgiveness and I'm not coming home
So paint me a heretic and hand me my broom, give me an
Alter to indifference in a quiet room,
Won't be comunning at your table or heading your call, because the
Land of milk and honey's just outside of your walls
And I am not coming home
No I'm not coming home
I'll make my own pillar of clouds
And burn the bush on my own
Don't need forgiveness and I'm not coming home
No I am not coming home
Whither thou goest I no longer will go
I'm not your wayward sister
Ain't your prodigal son
I'm not angry but I'm not coming home...
Don't need forgiveness and I'm not coming home...
No I'm not angry but I'm not coming home