It is I who takes righteousness
And casts it to the ground
And the thought of living above reproach?
I am sickened by the sound
While I devour the homes of widows
All to my own gain
These prayers are a performance from which
Humbleness abstains
Shepherd I'm lost and afraid
But you know where I am
Won't you come to save this wandering lamb?
(It is here where sin dwells)
Inside this tattered cage that holds this ruptured heart
If there was no such thing as grace
You'd not come to save but to tear me apart
For he who lives by the sword will surely die by it, too
So with ego, pride, and selfishness
I beg thee, run me through
What a wretch I have become
Defiled these gifts of heart and mind
You love in such increasing sums
That never fails to balance out my pride
For when this chalice has been emptied
And all it's contents have been poured
We'll set your fields to the torches
We'll put your cities to the sword