Well you flash your tongue like diamonds. You tied me to your wildcat schemes. And you forced me into a power dive. And left your mark on my jeans. And I hear the word on your soldiers. And I hear the word on Jesus too. I heard the word on the country. But I never heard the word on you. Your love was like a machine gun. I wore your bugle in my belt. And I was your kid glove lover. All the cards were yours. You always dealt. And I stood before your soapbox. Noiseless and shoeless. Playing my pantry boy's games. You had your hands raised up to the sky. Shouting Oh Sunday deity. Oh Big Daddy Longlegs. Come down and bless your sister please. You were shoutin' orders about the construction. Going on down the highway. You were namin' names blamin' blames. And you blamed me. You wore your heart like a challenge. Far and apart for anyone who came. Open and wide like the river. With rocks on both sides to keep the water tame. But I heard the word on your high tides. And I felt the pain when I tried. To rip your flood gates wide. And pull your body on over to my side. Where we both could hide. But you heard about the freedom ride. And you heard about the Highway Crew. Who could cut the light a little bit faster than you. So you left me just your shoes. And I hear the word on Jesus. And I hear the word on his marching troop. And I hear the word on the country. But I never heard the word on you.