I look to you with tired eyes and arms wide; guide me
They say patience is a virtue, and when his hands dropped cold I waited
Someone told me once that you know the meaning of life, the meaning of death; but I guess there's not much of a difference is there?
Dear God, I hope you were watching as his soul spilled from his parted lips; I hope you watched me try to catch it with cupped hands and helpless armfuls
I hope you're satisfied, he's quite a bitter man, I hope you treat him better than I ever did
Please don't tell him I'm sorry, not because he already knows but because he'd never believe it
God, I'm not quite sure how this whole death thing works, but last time I checked, he had no clue who I was
And I know I'm new to this whole praying thing but dear God, I pray to you, please, please keep it that way
He may not be the greatest man but he does not deserve that
Dear God, I come to you with tired eyes, arms wide, and a lifetime supply of desperation or faith or whatever you call it up there
Dear God, I hope you're listening