Jesus Christ is doing time for bumping lines on the weekend.
Not for organized crime, I guess that's fine.
Save the kids, donation baskets, we'll pray over their caskets,
But if your Jesus is Lord then I'm John the fucking Baptist.
And I preach the word every day,
So put your hands to the sky and dance for fuck's sake.
Come to me, I'm bloody from my knees
I'm begging please tell me you're right.
Take all my troubles away.
Come to me, I would but I can't see much lately,
Please give me your sight.
Take all my troubles away.
I'm living off of borrowed time and bottled wine
Too worried to care about the people I like.
Too hopeful for change to do what's right.
And too scared to give up.
Praying that this turns into gold, praying that I can take her home.
Praying for fame, for more control.
Praying everyday it's not my turn to go
Come to me, I'm bloody from my knees
I'm begging please tell me you're right.
Take all my troubles away.
Look at me, I would but I can't see much lately,
Give me your sight.
Take all my troubles away.