Jesus From Texas

(Whoa-oh)
(Whoa-oh)
(Whoa-oh)
(Whoa-oh)

My mom turned 18 in the 1960's, and she doesn't remember Stonewall (whoa-oh)
To be fair, she can't have known I'd be her kid
That the bricks launched at police would compel me to exist

And I think about that now down the ballot
Of the ones I love and I don't know yet
I voted for you

Oh, what a terrible honor it is
To watch the sky fall as a character witness
I spent the rest of the night freaking out
I had to get high just to put myself down

But I woke up for you

And I cut my hair
Because I'm worth it
And these days, I believe in bigfoot more than God, 'cause who's he hurting?
I grew up a preacher's kid, cleaning up after communion
So, I know that a church is not a way to live
It's a weekly reunion

My best friend found God, so we lost touch
I guess a savior beats a friend who thinks you're good enough (ooh-ooh)
I hope she finds love and peace
And if her kid comes out, I hope that she calls me

Oh, what a terrible honor it's been
To learn that my blessings are things you call sins
I'll spend the rest of my life tearing down
Jesus from Texas, you put in a crown

But I won't give up on you