She thinks it’s a benediction
That she deigns to talk
And points out a path 
That she cannot walk
And my feet are dusty 
And the boots are worn
Some veil in the sky
Has been torn
And out of what’s rendered
There comes a rain
The blessing
In all of the pain
What do I protect
When I bend the knee
At the altar
Of what she thinks of me
And it may be a prayer
It may be a sacrifice
A martyr to the god
Of something nice
And I utter phrases
I lay my truth
But I met with a wall
Of adjacent proof
And it’s been constructed
By bricks and cement
And I wonder
What it all meant
As I lay down in a bed
That was never there to hold my head
So I rise and I go
I’m just sorry they do not know