I want a nice house.
I want the cleanest clothes.
I want to be the king,
Don't have to worry about a thing.
Look at all that,
All that nice stuff they're always buying.
Oh God, I want that.
Tell me can you hear my prayers,
Because I've been praying for a while and I'm still in this hole.
They tell you to count your blessings,
They tell you, "Child, be grateful!".
Taught me how to pray and
Gave me the guidelines on how to be a good saint.
But desires of life can you mess you up.
And some of the prettiest things on the outside are your worst demons on the inside.
So, yeah, I haven't lived a perfect saint and I know a life of pain.
To treat them,
Add one big smile and put on the tough game.
This is my story.
My song.
It's not all pretty.
Life isnt.
The hole started covering up one day and you know what God said to dearest little me:
They tell you to count your blessings.
They tell you, "child be grateful".
Teaching you to use your weapons and gave you some guidelines.
So, tell why you not using them?
Your going to hurt, your going to want,
But why do you desire everything so freely?
You want that,
So I gave you this trial but it didn't come so cheaply and now I don't hear your prayers?
So, yeah you didn't always live a perfect saint and you know life of hurt,
But to treat them,
I gave you the key.
Remember my child,
Perfection did come with a price!