To the sermon on the mount, I am listening. Tough guy's running his mouth, I am glistening in. Save Your Spit is heading south, and I am getting in the way.
Said, "Wait one minute, son, you're right; they're just listening. Worried, sinned, and lacking sight, wanting christening. Go shine this motherfucking light on all the people who can hear."
This is tougher than I thought, owning all the things I bought.
And JC's up for another bow, and I am ringing him out.
Something's got me on the corner, and I am whimpering. Somewhere deep inside your coat, I am weathering. Wishing somehow you were near, 'cause I am withering alone.
You arrived and ordered stout, I stared in wordlessness. I just kept noticing your mouth, and how your face just fit into every aching void, what I've always missed some way.
This is tougher than I thought, holding you, the grace I've caught.
'Cause you're made of everything I want and I am ringing you out
like a morning bell. I am ringing you out, Like the kitchen rags of God. I am ringing you out, Like my voice across the hills. I am ringing you out,
like water on your feet, and you are everything to me. You are everything to me. I am ringing you out.