Why don't you tell Jesus
I'm not any good
Had so many girlfriends
With none of them could
Be honest, stay longer
Than a year or two
Now they all walk past me
Just like strangers do
Why don't you tell Jesus
I'm not worth of him
Been wasting my own time
Been dumping my dreams
That I know much better
Than this empty life
Than this going nowhere
And letting you down
Why don't you tell Jesus
I'm dying to ask
Why has he been absent
And gave me his back
If he is your saviour
Why won't he save me
From living this nightmare
And rotting within
Why don't you tell Jesus
I'm not any good
I don't deserve pity
No more further proof
'Cause all I've been doing
For the last few months
Is watching The Wire
On cable reruns
Why don't you tell Jesus
I'm fond of my sins
That my soul is wasted
All scars well concealed
That my back is broken
My credit score ruined
From drinking my ass out
And playing the fool
Why don't you tell Jesus
I'm not any good
That I'm not worth of him
That I love you too
bryan proctor (Laconia, NH, 1976)
