Lyrics

Hmm...
This weight on my back...
It don't feel like love.
It feels like stone.

(Verse 1)
They handed me a book bound in leather and in fear
Told me "This the only truth you ever gotta hear"
They gave me a God in a house of painted glass
With a list of all the sins I was too young to amass
They showed me a face, stern and white and full of wrath
Pointed down a narrow, predetermined path
Said "This is the light," but it only made me squint
This is the god they gave me... printed and in mint.

(Chorus)
But the god they gave me don't know my name
He don't feel the rhythm in my veins
He's cold and hard, a judging eye
From a throne, in a distant sky
The god they gave me speaks in "thou shalt nots"
And forgets the battles that I've fought
I'm trying to breathe, I'm trying to see
If there's a god in here for me.

(Verse 2)
They gave me a savior on a pristine, plastic cross
Never talked about the anguish, never mentioned the loss
Never spoke of doubt, or the sweat in Gethsemane
Just a simple transaction to set a soul like me free
But my freedom feels like chains in a box I didn't choose
A language I can't speak, just a set of blues
I'm looking for a spirit in the silence and the noise
Not the echo of their manufactured, hollow voice.

(Chorus)
'Cause the god they gave me don't know my name
He don't feel the rhythm in my veins
He's cold and hard, a judging eye
From a throne, in a distant sky
The god they gave me speaks in "thou shalt nots"
And forgets the battles that I've fought
I'm trying to breathe, I'm trying to see
If there's a god in here for me.

(Bridge)
(Music becomes sparse, just a pulsing bassline and a flickering hi-hat. The vocals are closer, more intimate, almost a confession.)
Maybe God is in the groove... the hum of the neon light...
The hand that I am holding in the middle of the night...
Not in the condemnation, but in the healing of the scar...
Not a distant, icy star... but a feeling in my chest...
Putting all their teachings to the final test...

(Outro)
(Ad-libs over the fading beat. The vocals are full of yearning and a new, fragile resolve.)
So I'm sending back the package...
With a note attached...
"I'm sure He's good for someone...
But He ain't the god I asked for..."
I'm gonna find my own...
In the minor keys and the unknown...
In the love I make... in the grace I break...
In my own... image.
Yeah...
My own image.
*(The beat fades, leaving only the crackle of the sample, which then also fades to silence.)