Choirs sing in the Catholic towns of America
Loud voices implore me, to lift my head
But why, when there is no one to touch my face
No comfort or wisdom to give or take
But how songs of religion caress my brow
Though my back is turned from the crown of thorns
I made you my Jesus, my everything
But now, I lift my head to denounce your reign
And I look, into the European eyes of God
No fragile a home can keep me sad
Despite, I gaze into the endless space
The stars and planets speak
Come into our house, where our hearts can breathe