the church how she swells brackets full of ticketholders ready for the lights and the pews they buckle under just like the bishop s bed under the weight of deacons wives but she s a handsome prize and he s a number rise and a damned good hypnotic your name it is a banner that flies over the most shameful things like a garage full of guns and dirty magazines and brackish water and cauldrons of gasoline race consuming tongues callow reveling but you are somewhere in the corners of america you try and sing your love just how it is but i swear i m gonna beat you to it take that song pervert it bit by bit cause you are just a sunday morning you re a bullhorn in the street you re a protest on the asphalt politician on tv you re a bell rung by the hour a curse when we cut our feet you re a five word liar s chorus you mean everything to me oh she means everything to me oh you mean everything to me