Come To God

He crossed a lonesome valley
Cast in dust and wisdom
Said, "I aint missed nobody
I thought I would but didn't"
N it was cold
So my blood ran slow
Congealed just like the gravy in my bowl
And I got old
By how much? I don't know
The cold fingertips of death stroking my bone
Pumping up the tension of the ropes
That'll thrust me up to heaven, getting close
Thawing in the tepid hands of the holy host

They put me up in soft light
They put me up with hard nails
Salvation painted off white
The devil's strokes in the details
I suppose
That's how it goes
Suspicious of the passion in the throes
But too delicious to pass up a taste, I know
So bag it up to go
You're coming home
To be forgotten in the fridge until it molds
I'm getting too proficient in the business of letting go



Credits
Writer(s): James Jackson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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