See how I follow all these

Things that I believe to be true?

I still fear that I would die before

I learn how to make love to you;

I look out from my window and

See this bitter struggle to be loved,

All the ways I try to forget it all,

All the things these thoughts are made of;

Love is a part I play in a

Story that I do not know,

The players cross this stage without a word

Towards a destination where I may never go;

I see a sign through my mind

And I’ll know forever that she used to be mine;

They pray for forgiveness at the

River of the ever flowing blood of Christ

Then they quote the good book in

Hopes that the world will label them wise;

She died for mans sin without

A flickering bit of hope to gain,

God pissed into the clouds and for a

Whole damn month it began to rain;

It’s getting late now,

There’s nothing left to philosophize,

We’ve stayed up long enough adding

To our histories never ending lies;

After drinking this wine,

Just her memory will be fine,

It was good enough that she used to be mine;

We war with god and kill each other

But their passing will never hurt me,

I stand and remember those that have

Passed and their lies that made me see;

I read the pages that tell the true

Story of how Wyatt Earp was a crook,

He was a hero for so long until people

Opened their eyes and read the book;

She drugged me until I was docile

Thinking my rebellion was through,

But I’ll never conform because I

Grow my marijuana and smoke it too;

She crossed the line and committed a crime

And wrote me saying how she used to be mine.