Lovers In Our Heads

Mary's driving home again She's crying again Johnny left her for another girl She's embarra*sed by her loneliness And haunted by her shame And everyone's reacting just the same As she feared they would And are we more concerned With the fruit of another Never noticing our own barren branches? And are we more consumed With casting stones at each other While ignoring the lovers in our beds Our own beds in our heads? Mary's driving home again, turns on the radio 'Cause no one's writing songs about divorce She could use a verse or two Anything that brings just a few moments of light In the middle of this darkness And are we more concerned With the fruit of another Never noticing our own barren branches? And are we more consumed With casting stones at each other While ignoring the lovers in our beds In our beds? God hears her cries As her tears fall rivaling the grains of sand And we have His heart What is keeping us from being His hands, His hands? Mary's driving home again, turns off the radio 'Cause no one's writing songs about divorce yet