After 21 years of breathing, I’d have figured what it means to love. But even at your touch mama, your touch it makes me writhe, from all this painful and broken loneliness that still lingers here inside.
Oh I’ve been trying hard, in vain,
to keep it from seeping into the outside, like some lie.
But I think we both know that when this heart of stone melts, it’s the only part left to show, and it’s been pouring out on this drought.
And so I’m sorry what you’ve seen is this angry part of me that’s gripping on to the past: just hoping for redemption, though my soul already knows:
I’m forgiven. You’re forgiven.
Now it’s time to let it all go.
Honestly, here’s this part of me that really just wants you to know,
intimately, my utter agony.
Yet I’m sure you’ve got enough of your own.
Oh my soul, just let it all go.
Please my soul, just let it all go.
After 21 years of breathing, I’d ought to have figured out what it means to love.
Maybe by that perfect example shown to me by a greater blood. A price paid with pain, so what would I gain mama, making you feel the same way?
Vengeance was never mine to pay, yet taken upon One by the same greater blood, by a same greater love.
And even now I have this shame.
Oh how I’ve been nothing but a fool. Spirit help me live in grace.
“The greatest gift you can give a man, is to give him grace to live again” green river ordinance, better love.