The Way of the Weak

You didn’t know
No, you didn’t know when I was coming home
You didn’t think that a woman knows how to roam
I thought that I had the right
To come back all bent up and tight
'Cause you’re with her, or at least you were
You were with her
Why is there strife in this foolish life?
Why is there pain, so much pain, over and over again?
I’m tired of it
I walked all over this town
And it trampled on me all up and down
'Cause it hates the weak
And I am the weak
God’s the one who listens to me speak
And I cry to him feeling all mild and meek
«Hold my hand
Help me understand the way of the weak»