It keeps me up at night.
|
I'm not certain I was right.
|
I'm consumed by what might have been
|
Again and again and again.
|
|
And now the sky is turning black.
|
Now the sirens are calling.
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This neighborhood was mine once
|
But now it's strange and foreign.
|
My body's drenched and my fists are clenched
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As I stare into the night.
|
|
And this street, the silent type,
|
It hasn't had much of a life.
|
And watches people come and go
|
and knows they're interchangeable.
|
|
The derelicts and debutants with so much in common,
|
The pedophiles and the parents who are all too human,
|
The churches on the corners where they beg forgiveness now.
|
|
And Jesus comes to me in my dreams.
|
He tells me that I still have a home.
|
He keeps talking about a place I can go.
|
Well, always loved, always forgiven, but I know
|
|
I won't ever be there.
|
I know I won't ever be there.
|
I know..
|
|
The derelicts and debutants with so much in common,
|
The pedophiles and the parents who are all too human,
|
The churches on the corners where they beg forgiveness now.
|
|
And Jesus comes to me in my dreams.
|
He tells me that I still have a home.
|
He keeps talking about a place I can go.
|
Well, always loved, always forgiven, but I know
|
|
I won't ever be there.
|
No, I won't ever be there.
|
No, I won't ever be there.
|
I know...
|
|
-----------------
|
I Won't Ever Be There
|
| John Nolan |
