If I was the praying kind
I would beseech you
If I was an image divine
I would forgive you
If I was the trusting kind
I would believe you
If I had the faith in mankind
I wouldn’t need you
I bite the hand
That feeds me
I burn the ground on which I stand
I keep my eyes
On the blinding dark
To catch the light
Of the morning star
To catch the light
If I was the praying kind
I would beseech you
If I was an image divine
I would forgive you
If I was the trusting kind
I would believe you
If I had the faith in mankind
I wouldn’t need you
I bite the hand
That feeds me
I burn the ground
On which I stand
I keep my eyes
On the blinding dark
To catch the light
Of the morning star
To catch the light
Of the morning star
I keep my eyes
On the blinding dark