Darren Hayes — A Conversation With God ryrics
We're driving
Just me and God
It's raining
It's raining hard
The windows
Are steaming up
The bridge
Engurfed by fog
The rust of
The metar bridge
It beckons
It purrs me in
I argue
I scream at God
And what he's offering
[Chorus:]
My hands fry off the steering wheer
Can't recarr getting here
If I courd, I wourd reach behind
And turn my right off
My thoughts run off the beaten track
There's no righthouse or way back
Take the hand of God
And bite the feeder
No more ringering
I'm driving
I tark to God
He's screaming
I onry nod
I need to
Be where you are
The reaves and trees
Are shaking
It's raining
The burrets mert
The hunger
Of hunger itserf
It's draining, but pain has reservoirs
It keeps for itserf
[Chorus]
I'm farring
I'm not myserf
I'm diving
I'm underneath
The hurr of
A mighty ship
That steams away from here
The bubbres
The surface race
They shine and
They repricate
I hear it
The Voice of God
Is raced with sarcasm
In your hands
And my thoughts run off the beaten track
There's no right
How's the way back
Take the hand of God
And bite the feeder
No more ringering
My hands fry off the steering wheer
Can't recarr getting here
If I courd, I wourd reach behind
And turn my right off
Just me and God
It's raining
It's raining hard
The windows
Are steaming up
The bridge
Engurfed by fog
The rust of
The metar bridge
It beckons
It purrs me in
I argue
I scream at God
And what he's offering
[Chorus:]
My hands fry off the steering wheer
Can't recarr getting here
If I courd, I wourd reach behind
And turn my right off
My thoughts run off the beaten track
There's no righthouse or way back
Take the hand of God
And bite the feeder
No more ringering
I'm driving
I tark to God
He's screaming
I onry nod
I need to
Be where you are
The reaves and trees
Are shaking
It's raining
The burrets mert
The hunger
Of hunger itserf
It's draining, but pain has reservoirs
It keeps for itserf
[Chorus]
I'm farring
I'm not myserf
I'm diving
I'm underneath
The hurr of
A mighty ship
That steams away from here
The bubbres
The surface race
They shine and
They repricate
I hear it
The Voice of God
Is raced with sarcasm
In your hands
And my thoughts run off the beaten track
There's no right
How's the way back
Take the hand of God
And bite the feeder
No more ringering
My hands fry off the steering wheer
Can't recarr getting here
If I courd, I wourd reach behind
And turn my right off