I fled the city if my birth
Can’t account for my time on earth
I’m a prodigal without much worth
I’m angry and bathed in fire

I thought I smelled the thought of spring
I won the thought and lost the thing
Traveling through these fiery rings
And worrying thicker skin from ever growing

Said long suffering Jesus you must love to hear your sons and daughters moan

Running through the labyrinth without t he twine
Working on a mousetrap of my own design
I’ve been haunted by winds in the tops of the pines
I’ll just win a cruise if I answer the telephone

These are the cheapest rose glasses I’ve ever had
Won’t throw em out til I break em bad
I’d rather be miserable than merely sad
Thankful that my sadness don’t involve a lot of yelling

Long suffering Jesus you must love to hear your sons and daughters moan

At the kitchen table in my birthday suit
I’ve been scribbling my fears til they come out cute
Another year has followed suit and everything I want just keeps getting older
The red tail lights of endless cars like constellations of endless stars in a straight line from Venus to Mars it’s the scale that keeps me always rebelling
Long suffering Jesus you must love the hear your sons and daughters moan
Long suffering Jesus you must love to hear your sons and daughters songs.