Fly Away

Won’t you feel sorry for me, Jesus?
Won’t you send me down my peace?
My hands are sore and frozen
When will the racing madness cease?
6:00 PM has rolled me over,
I suppose I’ve passed another day.
I’m giving up on rites and worship
on my knees so long it hurts to pray.

I’ve been caught up in the rapture.
I’ve been crushed like a tin can by the pain.
I lived through the anxious nights
marred by solitude and cobalt rain
I walked across the graveyard,
outside of St. Alban’s church alone.
It secured me safe passage
for thy without sin cast the first stone. 

I miss my young hands
I miss my young face,
and I can not keep warm
in change’s tight embrace.
As this time of trouble
goes on and on for days
I find my strength in knowing 
that I can simply fly away.

Won’t you understand me, Jesus,
hold my hand down this long pier? 
There’s a silver angel near my heart
and there’s Delilah in my hair.
Won’t you hold me, Jesus?
when I fly away from here?
The storm’s fury blows it all away
and everything seems clear.

I walk out to the river and I listen for the thunder,
my body starts to shiver and I feel myself go under.
Jesus, won’t you pay attention?
Jesus, won’t you save the day?
I deserve less than what you gave me,
so now’s the time to fly away.