Sing To God

How strangely words like this still fit across my mouth
Hung up by the wrists, perfect portrait of myself
Beyond the obvious I've little else to add
To an unfinished poem I'll never understand
Lies from your furthest teeth I bought with gold
Colour me black and blue from mistakes of old
And spare me all the oldest tricks from books I've never read
Cover my lips, won't you?
For they know not what they do
Is it sinful to pray without a cross but for my fingers behind my back?
I was hoping you would find out...
I was hoping you would find out...
I was hoping you would find out...
I was hoping you would find out...
I was hoping you would find out...