Behind Church Walls

Do you think I regret what I’ve grown into?

Do you think I’ve cried over the graves

That I’ve led to?

But do you think I forget where I come from?

Do you think I’ve kneeled in a mass

For thee I never outrun?

You’re disgusted but jealous at the same time,

You’d buy a life like mine

For a Judas dime.

And a cross or holy water won’t really do,

A burning sensation won’t either.

Oh, I pity you.