Hallelujah came to in the confession booth
Infested with infections and smiling on an abscessed tooth
Running out on residue and crashing through the vestibule
The crucifixion cruise, she climbed the cross and found she liked the view

And sat reflecting on the resurrection and dreaming about an old connection
And talking loud over lousy connections, she put her mouth around a difficult question
She said Lord, what do you recommend to a real sweet girl who's made some not-sweet friends?
Lord, what do you prescribe to a real soft girl who's having real hard times?