My eyes are made of winter and these hands I hold are skin and bone
Oh oh
Our bed sheets thrown, the meals gone cold
I know you, I know you of old
Oh oh
Pray for me oh children pray for what I’ve I’ve I’ve I’ve done
I’ll haunt the very wrinkles of your skin
I’ll run from this, I’ll run until I begin to understand
What holy men really mean when they speak of sin
Oh oh
Pray for me 'cos I won’t pray for you
Oh oh
Pray for me 'cos I won’t pray for you
If you knew all that I’d done
The words that shone are all but gone
Oh oh
The hearts I’ve broken, the minds I've woken
Sweet nothings are screamed not spoken
Oh oh
God made all man in his image
Honey I’m I’m I’m no man
I’m what’s left when children go to war
Run from you, I’ll run until I begin to understand
What holy men really mean when they speak of sand and sons and seams and symphonies and sweat and sex and sin
Oh oh
Pray for me cos I won’t pray for you
Oh oh
Pray for me cos I won’t pray for you
Pray for me oh children pray for what I’ve I’ve I’ve I’ve undone
I cannot sleep if all you do is cry
Pray for me, I’ll run until I begin to understand
What holy men really mean when they speak of all that’s been and all that won’t
And all you do and don’t
And why you cannot sleep for sighing
Why womanhood is more than crying
I’m stronger now than you have ever known
The cracks you made I fill with mortar
A broken pot can still hold water
Symphonies and sweat and sex mean nothing when you are obsessed
With sin and soil and strength and song and all the words that came out wrong and him
Oh oh
Pray for me cos I won’t pray for you
Oh oh
Pray for me cos I won’t pray for you