Lyrics

We ride our bikes around the circle in the cemetery weaving I wave up to You on the Cross Am I to come upon You suddenly like this forever? Happy, relieved that You are here and I can see You I can feel You You are like the ticket-half I find inside the pocket of my old lead-raking coat There all the time, all the while forgotten I so often seem to leave You in churches and other islands And on my beads where I can see You, I can feel You I take the ticket-half and put it on the table saying This is God and He's here through my comings and my goings But I walk past the ticket-half, I walk past the ticket-half I walk past the ticket-half just as I've walked past the Cross on our wall Our self-importance grows so dazzling we don't see You But gentle Jesus, aren't You always? Aren't You every hour here?