Windows are tainted; mirrors are covered or painted. The things we do can break us, but this bloody hand is not I pray my own (is not I scream my own). I can't be alone. Silk scarves of scarlet! Puppet on strings, please, let me go. This won't be easy... You take me, you break me. Delighted, I entered your trap. I can't move! Could you loose this noose around my neck? I'm so alone. God, please free me! I can't breathe, I can't breathe alone. God, please save me! I can't bleed, I can't bleed alone. Don't let your ships drift off to sea; I snapped the cables 'cause I thought, I think, "rules are constricting." The things we do can kill us but often they're like sand: shifting grain by grain, until what's left is our names. We're all the same.

I thought I was the best, stupid as it may seem. Every time that I yearned for more I looked to me. I guess—to put it the most bluntly— all of this ‘self-confidence’ I see merely stems from apathy. “Be holy; be whole.” Brazenly, I set out on my goal. Is that bold? “Live rightly and full.” I never knew the call could cost my soul. I would die to be whole! You never know you’re unsafe ‘till the impact; Pride’s a crutch for fools and that’s a fact… fools like me. Why didn’t it make sense when I felt all alone? Making all these classes of my own isn’t fun. I guess—to put it the very best— Worship of myself made so much more out of my shocking less! So worthless and cold; bitterness and hate, they fueled my goal. Deathly soul! All I would make whole, the twisted heart that I would make of gold, seems so destined for mold. Flash the lights! Flash the lights, I’m ready for all the warnings before the wars. I'm sick of trying this for sure! I want a faith that will endure. Flash the lights! Flash the lights, despite the shock. (Maybe the pain will make me walk.) I’d like to think before I talk about me. Flash the lights! Flash the lights! Make it all real: all the dependence that I’m bound to feel. When I fall beneath the wheels, I am crushed by pride! Flash the lights! Flash the lights! Make it all real: all the dependence that I’m bound to feel. When I fall beneath the wheels, I am crushed by me.

Why don’t I care anymore? The fires of hell seem too docile to afford effort now. Dwindling, all consumed with life (no meaning). I come before with gifts of straw. They burn to dust, and I cry, “Why, God? Destroy all the things I’ve made? Just for you I pretend to behave.” Minds in worlds far apart, too divided to give one my heart. Fragile wars between friends, I hope my brothers don’t hate me in the end. Silence still from above. (Prompts so quiet to run to his love!) But I’ll move on, rituals in my hand. I want to follow all of the commands to prove my allegiance to your heart, but yet I find myself so apart. Father gave all my dreams, yet I twist them for my own means...

They all revolved and sang to themselves all my songs and all of my farewells. I dreamt that it would take apart all their objections, finally win over their hearts! They all loved me—almost as worship—lined up to receive all the words from my lips. They all told me how I was skilled and I was perfectly in your will. Dreams devolve; fantasy. All that I know is all of me. I rue the day I ran this alone. (“You’re far too slow for the passion I’ve shown!”) Conceit transcribes so fulsomely, until the truth! It crashed through the creed! There’s something more that I can’t find. There’s something less that’s consumed my mind. Fading in this entropy is not the way I dreamt it’d be. Darning all the tearing seams; hearts ever fray in twisted dreams. <instrumental> Don’t—don’t move away—but listen. Hear—oh, hear the ending scream. Catch the prayers and watch them glisten, free you from your apathy. Don’t—don’t dream of all your failures. Don’t—don’t live in all your feats. All achievement’s tertiary to who I want you to be. Flee! Oh, flee the anaesthetics, promising a tortured, frail relief! The lost are screaming for relief! And I, believing, cannot breathe! Who will go and tell them? As for me: I’m left alone. My strength has shown: nothing.

Some days I don’t have the strength to keep up with this. Bitterness and apathy call me to dismiss any hope of change, any hope of movement! I can’t deny myself again. I am sick of hurting all my friends. And on this I coast: that I might have more to waste than most. I wish the struggles would end before I felt sick. Sick of all the pain I’ve caused trying to pull in all the show. No go! Everyone knows! Finally, I know: Victory isn’t shown wrapped in ribbons, hearts, or bones. What kills me the most: that I have nothing to offer…or boast. Oh! The places I go! The places I go! And, “The proud are trampled by the poor and needy.” Oh, the pain that remains. Sadness makes lanes, and the inconvenience just drives me insane. I’m sick of letting my strength just carry me by All the times exuberance on my part is just a lie I sigh; take a moment and let me cry for what could have been—if I hadn’t been making impressions. I’ve been giving myself to a fantasy of being well in health. Oh! The places I go! The places I go! And, “The proud are trampled by the poor and needy.” Oh, the pain that remains. Sadness makes lanes, and the inconvenience just drives me insane. God, I’ve got to feel good. God! I’ve got to feel good! God! I can’t feel good…

Why so hard against compromise? Loosen your view and get real about your life. You'll never be perfect; why even try? Taste my kiss, and you'll wonder why. Sell me your morals; I'll pay high. Why so hard against wicked thoughts? No one will hear them—until I scream them out on the mountaintops. Do not breathe. I track your heart. If you show a sign of leaving, I'll tear you apart. Sell me your soul; I'll pay high. Spread my wings for a net, it seems. All my schemes, all my hopes and dreams are smashed on the rocks of men. Leave your schemes that just bring strife! Instead, embrace a servant's life. Take a step and see the joy of true living. I can't do this. Do I choose dull pain forever, Or sharp pain in my ribs for a moment? We all have our names to think of. There is a place where demons tread, I see the lions prowl outside. I'd rather not be cut and bled, I have to choose to stay alive. Don't tell me about future gain, there is no treasure but today. I think I'll sit and sleep…and then I think I'll watch me waste away. Here's some candy for your mind: I'll hold you until you die. Foolish child! I fed you pride to keep you ever trapped inside. Do you want this? The pain won't end 'till your conscience gives... Till it dies, or gives itself to live. Don't make this too complex; it's death to death with no hope left versus never-ending life with no regrets! (I don't know why there's even a choice left!) Don't make this too complex. it's death to death with no hope left versus life abounding with no regrets! (I guess that's the choice that I'll accept.) Did you forget the deal we made? I guess your name will have to fade. Did you want your secrets to be played? Or did you want to be bulldozed by my motorcade? I own the media, and to succeed, you'll need to take your orders from me. Go ahead! Throw your life away! Be dependent on someone for the songs to play! All these claims will turn out to be lies! And all my power shows them up. Oh, why do men proclaim they can make their lives, when all the worth comes when I decide? Do not wait, do not stop, do not let go now! I don't care what the cost! Please, free me now! I'll do all that I can to help you, I give you all that I am! Show me how Do you free all the slaves who have made this debt? They're in love with their vices! The best thing yet: That you seek to win them like a man his wife! Free the whores from their needs, free me from my life! Free me from my disease, free me from my life! <instrumental break> In all my dreams, I was the hero, not the broken twisted mess that is me. In all my schemes, I was the savior, not the fool in need of saving. But now it seems that life just is not the stuff of dreams. And now, I need you to come and take a hold of me. <instrumental break> Glorious! Oh! So beautiful! Change the chaos into love so full! Broken fools, they become whole. Love and justice seals our souls. All the things that the demons claimed kept me like friendship or fame merely made me far too vain. God, make mine a lesser name!

I’m sick of standing still, watching as wishes kill my will to try. Pity, heart-fulls, had my fill and left me with nothing but an empty shell inside. I’m alive. I’m sick of running down life in a search for meaning and a crown. Are these gifts part of a plan? It puts in perspective the wiles and praise of man. From your hand comes everything that I’ve ever longed for. I feel my attempts at life are bland. They sift like sand… Some days, I look to the sky. Sin makes you want to die. I see far lights of Your plan. I look at my hands, scarred from pillaging and pride… They see self-pity, angry strife--such a wretched life! (Don’t blame the lights for showing the knife.) Blood-stained night! I’m sick of wishing pain on my friends! It seems that the anger breaks me in the end. Nothing ever came of fighting against brothers and sisters hedged by your defense.

Only fools hide behind their schemes! Wicked man I am, that’s where I’m seen. I ignored everyone, and translated problems to metaphors for things I could dream. When people become objects to please, you know something’s wrong, and it seems I fail, even still, at this twisted will and let the masses tell me who to be. Treat every struggle like a board game! Moved my pieces for Park Place and sang all the hymns! All is worthless vanity in the end for me. Treat every struggle like a board game— Moved my pieces for Park Place and sang all the hymns. All the hymns! I dreamt God hated me, but woke refreshed! Why do I have so many terrible schemes? So incompatible with your heart, it seems I have to choose between admitting I’m weak and holding a strength that’s not worth anything. Oh, what a joke! Oh, what a funny thing! Perfection is the song I wanted to sing. I had to stop and wait and see the total hopelessness of what I wanted to be. I dreamt God was done with me, but woke refreshed! You’re not alone. I am your home. We can’t let ourselves drift by. On wooden rafts we die. You’re not alone; I am your home. We can’t let ourselves float by. On wooden boats we die. And the world continues on and we’ll never want to change what we know an endless maze, and endless karaoke but our caligraphy, it is empty if it only shows the barrenness of everywhere we go. Lead us to hope. We need hope. The Bride’s destroying herself, but we never want to change what we know. So we declaim, we blame the radio. And in my symphonies, the failures keep repeating. I know that I have nowhere else to go. Take me to home. I can’t cope. I need some hope. Don’t let go…

I’m sick of singing songs about myself and all by myself. I’m sick of righting wrongs from trying to glorify my help. I’m sick of all the pride, eating me from within. I’m sick of all the lies. Yes, it’s true, I’ve loved the taste of sin. I want to be a part of something much greater than myself. My world is pitiful, O God I’m sick of all the filth! It never ends in me, never seems satiated. All my obsessions plead for my attention, overrated. “I give You everything.” (Does that even mean anything anymore?) "I lift your name on high", though I’ll never be strong. "I lift your name on high." I pray that you can right my wrongs. I lift your name on high. How could you be everything that I could need? I’ve seen the Great Unknown; why do I try to grasp for fame? As if there’s any worth in knowing someone else will know my name. Maybe two days from now, I’ll be dug six feet deep. I can’t believe my efforts could fail so miserably at Your feet. Don’t walk away anymore! Cycles are pointless; like clichéd metaphors. They may be new once or twice but then they leave you wanting more: Some growth for all the pain! My vice is myself and my name. I feel so trapped inside the world of my own means. "I lift your name on high." Lord, could you break this death inside? "I lift your name on high." I don’t love, and I don’t know why! I lift your name on high. Could you restore the part of me that wanted more? I acknowledge; I don’t feel I acknowledge; it starts “not real”— If reality is full of emotion— But yet, I know, God, you deserve promotion. I really don’t care how I feel. There is nowhere that I could deal honestly, honestly than when you’re real. I really don’t care. Your name on high! I will fight! I will fight! Oh! Lord! This relationship is something worth dying for. And if I die, if I die, then I’ll meet you in the sky. With the worms my flesh will lie, this division makes me cry.

*Just as I am, without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me, and that thou bids me come to Thee. O Lamb of God I come, I come. *Just as I am, and waiting not to rid my soul of one dark blot. To thee, whose blood can cleanse each spot, o Lamb of God I come… That day, the striving will end. My Lord, would you be my friend? (again?) *Just as I am, thou will receive Wilt dwell, come pardon cleanse relieve Because thy promise I believe Oh Lamb of God, I come, I come *Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind Sight, riches, healing of the mind Yea all I need in thee to find Oh Lamb of God, I come… That day, the boasting will end. Father God, please fill me again. You are beautiful! Your love is stronger than death (and all the inconsistencies that I have left) You don’t love for results, but, yet father God, you give us the strength to transcend our faults! *Just as I am! Thy love unknown hath broken every barrier down. Now to be thine, yes, thine alone! O Lamb of God, I come! That day, my last breath expend; My love, stay here ‘till the end.