Trying To Get Home

Cannot believe it
Don't want to discuss it
She's gone

Some people have lives
Other people have deaths
I feel sorry for both of them

She lived like a queen or at least that's what I need to believe
When riding our nightmares bareback nothing seems true during this massacre of sleep
You were a quiet child then you found the piano and the piano found you

She didn't have audiences, she had congregations
Stood before them like a soul preacher whose only job was to immerse us in the blood
Gospel versus secular is never the point if you're setting people free with your massive pipes and resurrection energy

Won't accept it
Struggling every day since this songbird has gone radio silent
She's gone and nothing will ever be the same again