Don’t think I’ll get to heaven anymore
Broke too many hearts on my way out the door
All the promises I had made and hadn’t followed through before
Don’t think I’ll get to heaven anymore
Don’t think I’ll get the help that I need
They’ll see the cuts upon my hands and let me bleed
Though I scream for mercy no one here answers my plead
Don’t think I’ll get the help that I need
Don’t think that I could fix it if I wanted to
As if there were any good deed I could do
Seems every chance I had to change I’d turn my back on you
Don’t think that I could fix it if I wanted to
I’ve seen bad men before try to mend their wicked ways clinging to a nurse’s hand
Wires on their hearts hoping they can make their sons and daughters understand
Don’t think I’ll be remembered when I go
A picture on a wall no one will know
Taken down when the dust gets thick in about a year or so
Don’t think I’ll be remembered when I go
Don’t think there will be roses on my grave
That sort of thing is usually for the saved
Only flower on it will be the weeds that hide my name
Don’t think there will be roses on my grave
All the pieces of this life that I leave behind don’t read too well on a Friday morning page
My face in black and white isn’t worth the ink so they decide to save the space
Put a used couch ad in its place
Don’t think I’ll get to heaven anymore
I can see Saint Peter locking up the door
Saying there’s a man south of here with a lot for you in store
Don’t think I’ll get to heaven anymore
Don’t think I’ll get heaven anymore