Everything Rests on Your Small Shoulders

I remember when you thought you found God
Painted a cross on your forehead
And wandered around the back yard like a saint
Or a shepherd tending to his flock
The irony is not lost on me
And for all your newfound love
You still seem like a bastard
Then you carried on like all the world was yours
Is it because of how you forgave yourself
That all your terrible deeds have been undone