I begged you to let it just be you and me then,
The first day you let me see your wisdom,
When all I'd ever known was broken children,
Vomit flies and wrists are spillin,
You said I was one in a million,
But as the days went by,
I looked in my eyes,
And saw the same old villain,
Am I praying for feelings,
or preying on hoes for fulfillment?
How am I to control this demon?
I'm eating my way through to my grave,
I guess you weren't joking when you said I was a slave,
Amnon thought it was just another crave,
Until he staged the scene that he thought up in his head,
I can imagine the screams when he took her to his bed,
I hear them when I think of the souls seared in my sin,
It's enough to make any boy want to run in fear again,
But you can't run from truth before He intervenes for His lambs,
"If you push away now it will be worst than the first thing,
When you broke and abused me,
Whatever you do, don't leave me."
"I'm sorry baby,
I'd rather die than face me,
Enter Absolam, the one destined to kill me."
But who's really justified in the end preach?
Is it those who win the struggle or a dying Ted Bundy?
And if it is the filthy,
Do we really love them fully?
Or leave them under the sheets, dirty,
When the coroner speaks,
We interrupt him, "You see,
I don't know him or his fee,
Let him burn for his own sin,
I've got places to be."
But let's not forget about the church then,
A bride with disgusting children,
One day she's living alone with one son,
And no one knows the difference till Paul comes along,
And judges their sin,
Now the whole church has gone up in arms against him,
And before he knows it his life is all over,
Holding his nose, the shame holds him under cold water,
the mortar of guilt and fear,
He's not welcome in the rooms where Christ prepared,
the last morsel for man and sinners to share,
Cause a man would never do the things that I dared,
Now You scare me to the point where I can't sleep in my bed,
Snares digging through like a thousand stares,
Questioning whether I've run out my welcome,
Do I need to find another hell to be dispelled from,
I know I've got to temper this self hate that I'm engulfed in,
But I wonder, if you could relate, would you have survived friend?
The weight gets overwhelming in my head when,
I think about the drugs and sex I've been distilled in,
Maybe the shorter road would be more welcome,
Take this gun and guarantee no other lover will find their stem in,
The root of my sin,
But if I died, would that be the answer?
Or would it leave a new form of cancer?
A new question in life with no answer,
Caught up in disaster as the clocks twist faster,
Is time without falling really the answer?
When a thought is enough for our Master,
To cast an angel out with no chance to,
Feel peace again,
After all this being said,
Restoration feels like a storybooks end,
I guess it all depends,
It's a test with multiple questions man,
Will it be the gun, the pills, the past,
Or will I finally stand.