They Sing

Outside of the church, smoking a cigarette,

knowing I sorrow I wish I could just forget.

They sing of heaven and love and such grace,

but there’s no safety among this human race.

 

And the atheists and parties and every kind,

every place people are, they have a cruel mind.

They sing of acceptance and love, a safe place,

but let none of them close to touch your face.

 

There is a lover I will go to, on this cold night.

They will welcome me. They will hold me tight.

They sing of love, and no one will ever replace,

but they might draw tears, after touching my face.

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