Verse 1 They gave me heaven painted black and white, A narrow gate, a wrong side and a right. Said Jesus loved the whole wide world He made, Then whispered where that love was meant to end. I watched them sort the sacred from the strange, Make human worth a thing that faith could rank. And somewhere underneath my Sunday dress, My stomach knew what all their certainty Had taught my mouth to second-guess. Pre-Chorus The grown-ups were the keepers of the truth, And I was just a heart still growing roots. So when their certainty made something in me ache, I thought perhaps my tenderness Was something they could break. Chorus Oh, my heart, you were right all along, That sickness wasn’t proof that you were wrong. Love those people. Play with those friends. Don’t let their fences teach you where a person ends. They’ll draw a line and swear that heaven drew it first, Then bless the ink and call exclusion sacred work. But you believed the sentence as they said it— Jesus loves everyone. You never learned their edit. Verse 2 I grew old enough to hear the language shift, How mercy came with terms when theirs was asked to give. How “neighbor” lost its meaning at the door, How grace had qualifications never named before. The hands held high in worship Sunday morn Could point by Monday toward the ones they’d scorn. And every time their doctrine needed shame To keep somebody safely on the outside, I wondered who had changed His name. Pre-Chorus I thought that questioning them would question Him, Until I watched their version make the whole world dim. If what you call a good tree feeds on bitter fruit, I don’t need another sermon To tell me something’s wrong beneath the roots. Chorus Oh, my heart, you were right all along, That sickness wasn’t proof that you were wrong. Love those people. Play with those friends. Don’t let their fences teach you where a person ends. They’ll draw a line and swear that heaven drew it first, Then bless the ink and call exclusion sacred work. But you believed the sentence as they said it— Jesus loves everyone. You never learned their edit. Bridge I used to think that nausea was a warning, A little sinner questioning the sure. Now I know my body knew before me Some kinds of holy shouldn’t hurt. If heaven needs a hatred I can’t stomach, If goodness needs a stranger made ashamed, Then I will trust the child who heard love everyone Before the grown-ups taught her All the people they erased. Final Chorus Oh, my heart, you were right all along, You heard the truth beneath what they got wrong. Love those people. Play with those friends. Run past every border where their version of grace ends. Let them draw their lines and swear that heaven holds the pen— You already knew what holy looked like then. They gave you love and tried to footnote it— But you took everyone And built your whole damn life around it.
