The Weight Of The World - Her Space Holiday

It could be your southern drawl

Or how you limp when you walk

That makes me wanna say

All those things I never could

Schoolboy crush carved into wood

That fades in the rain

You were born in a Baptist house

With a rusty spoon inside your mouth

The taste didn’t go away

And when the sun comes peeking out

You work until it goes back down

The days are all the same

A baby boy strapped to your hip

And a tiny cut above your lip

That states: God doesn’t save

Everyone who buys his book

Some of us get overlooked

In a way, it’s a shame

But you still walk in His light

And say the same words every night:

«I pray the Lord my soul to keep,»

What about the rest of me?

My faith can’t take the weight

Summers came and left for Fall

Ten thankless years of working hard

The school bell rings, the kids come home

But you still feel like you’re alone

'cause your husband holds his whiskey glass

Tighter than our hero’s past

Rip those black beads off your throat

And swap them out for a knotted rope

The end is your only friend

Ears are full of rushing blood

You say the things you never could

Pray the Lord that you will see

That my eyes bulge out and my body swing

'Cause now I finally understand

Jesus is like every man

He tells you what you want to hear

Until you fall in love, then He disappears

My faith couldn’t take the weight

When the weight of the world falls square on your shoulders

A pin prick or missed call can somehow destroy you

We are all victims of warped expectations

When people can’t save us, we suddenly hate them

So, much in fact, that we lose our grasp on reality

The responsibility that we have to ourselves and everybody else

When the weight of the world falls square on your shoulders

A pin prick or missed call can somehow destroy you

We are all victims of warped expectations

When people can’t save us, we suddenly hate them