Oh lord, clergy men read and speak, but do they dream? When the choir sings and they give their speech, do they dream? And lord, when their wives lay by their side, do they feel alive? Lying again in that bed of sin, oh that skin stretched medicine. Is there sanctuary in that pulpit, if there is, is it open? Cause my faith is getting lonely, it's never been this lonesome. And they say that you will always have my back, but that's all you've ever had, that's all you've ever seen. And Lord it's not your fault, it's not your fault, it's not your fault. It's me