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Hallelujah came to in the confession booth |
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Infested with infections and smiling on an abscessed tooth |
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Running out on residue and crashing through the vestibule |
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The crucifixion cruise, she climbed the cross and found she liked the view |
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And sat reflecting on the resurrection and dreaming about an old connection |
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And talking loud over lousy connections, she put her mouth around a difficult question |
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She said Lord, what do you recommend to a real sweet girl who's made some not-sweet friends? |
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Lord, what do you prescribe to a real soft girl who's having real hard times? |
