Tic Toc goes me lately.
I don’t want time to hate me.
I just want it to slow,
but it won’t. Oh, I don’t know.
I am not my body.
It’s the worst part of me.
I just pray when it’s day comes
I still got a way to go.
O my God, who am I talking to?
O my God, if not you… o my God.
All my life, I’ve been posing
questions to the quiet and
wondering how it’s gonna answer them
and then following all of the signs.
I’ve seen the trees with the angels in.
I’ve bled the gaping wound of sin.
I forsook the wide and took the narrow.
Now, by my faith, I beg and borrow.
O my God, who am I talking to?
O my God, if not you… o my God.
And on that Halleluja day,
I’ll be coming home to stay.
Ready my bed and warm my meal.
I’m sure I’ll be starving and cold.
But while I have these eyes, this tongue,
if the old are only wise when young,
then let my love, be sweat and true
and all I do be pleasing to you.
O my God, who am I talking to?
O my God, if not you… o my God.