Well, sometimes I still hate you
and every now and then it's for the right reasons
Like making lies of a promise of joy
and putting strangers in the mirror.
You may not know the reason,
but you'll be going back to see Galilee.
The desert eats out the skyline
Where ends the earth, and where begins heaven?
At the end of a prayer for dark clouds and rain?
Or a life I remember?
They say that time is a healer,
but every minute's been a long, long time.
No anodyne or easy distraction
pulls your burned image from my eyes.