You used to not speak unless spoken to.
Like your mother the housewife and her living rooms.
But now you’re grown, you cut her hair.
And still you feel she isn’t there.
Spilled the blood of Christ on your Easter dress.
Turned from the priest before receiving it.
The stain-glassed sun, unnatural green.
The dark red stain above your knee.

Always waking up slowly.
Clouds are colored dust, covering.

Was the first time that year you saw a robin.
You were clearing the rocks from the garden.
Your dusty jeans, your calloused hands.
The good lord knows just where you stand.

Always waking up slowly.
Cloud are colored dust, covering.


Lyrics submitted by SaraJean

Wise Blood song meanings
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