Deacon's Daughter

He's got an illness, a sickness I can't treat

God as my witness, hand over my chest, he's lying to me

And I understand that it's hard for a man to be more than he's seen

Cause I've been there before and it took a great war to wash me clean

So send my best to the therapist who will finally get you

Maybe she'll get you off and she won't call the cops when you act like you do

Wish I was the one who could change you, but you need a help I can't offer

I'm not righteous, not licensed, can't save ya, it's not like I'm God

I'm just a Midwest Deacon's daughter

I've got a weakness for guilt-ridden sweetness