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I sat in pews on sundays in chapels
with my grandmother, dressed in
my finest sunday clothes
and i got to confess
for the very first time
and i confessed that i liked
a girl
and the priest told me to pray
and so i did
and i asked god
why it was wrong
to like a girl
i didn't get
a reply so
next sunday
i went and asked the priest
and he told me to
pray harder and
to not ask
that stupid
question and to pray
for my soul
so i did
i prayed
and asked for god
to give the girl
 my soul
and he didn't reply
so next sunday
i went and asked the priest
why i didn't get
a reply and he said
to pray harder
and not to ask
for god
to give my soul
to this girl
or else i'll
go to hell
so
i prayed
and cried
and asked god why
he'd send my soul to hell
for liking this girl
and i cried
because i didn't
get a reply

when next sunday came
around i didn't go
i didn't get in my best
sunday clothes,
or tell my grandma
to wait up for me
i just told her
to leave and have a good time
because i realised
that god didn't need
to be in my prayers
and he didn't dwell
in old men in robes
and hung out in churches
god was the feeling
i got from loving
another girl.