if God exists than why did he
ever even make gravity
if he's sat up there in the sky
maybe that's why
my head feels so fucking heavy sometimes
i was told that love is when his hefty
sin sits heavy
on my chest
and then i must confess
well, love doesn't feel so good
your love doesn't feel so good
your love doesn't feel so good
if god perches on the shoulders of us
its the tiny people
the ones who sit cross-legged on the train
waistline, thick thighs, stomach, stomach sucked in
with our stomach, stomach sucked in
our stomach, stomach sucked in
i pray each time i squeeze through the crowd
our shoulders do not touch
it's the hush, its the rush
of dodging through handbags and elbows
and nothing, nothing ever feels as right
as when your hurricane hits
fists my chest
they say it happens every year in the south
they say it happens every year in the south
you have meltdowns and it happens every year in the south
you have meltdown and it happens every year in the south
this has gone beyond
the ambit of my loving arms
baby, i cannot love you for two of us
gentle arms, cannot love you enough
gentle arms, cannot love you for the two of us.