An inexplicable mood led me to writing this little demo.
I’m a fraud, between the pews on a Sunday morning. ‘Cause I thought when I was young I knew it all. I still cry when I hear my sister sing Your praises, ‘cause the world hasn’t swallowed her like it’s swallowed me.
I used to sing so loud. Now the devil’s got my tongue on every song I’ve ever sung. How can I go back now, when I cannot put my thumb on when I went so numb?