Running from guilt,
Tripping over what's concealed.
Frank conversations with the Lord,
Asking “is this real?
Is this how life is?
Do I really have to live it?
Why you choose me?
Am I really one of the gifted?”
Chosen few,
He CHOSE a few.
I look at myself: “Are you sure if it's you?”
Stubbornness,
Ignorance,
I think that sums me up.
Cause I hear God,
And learn about him but im straddling fences up.
Monday through Saturday, eight to eight,
I was sanctified, but after nine it's ‘after dark', and
Im another guy.
They see me on twitter,
And that's not im portrayed, so they tell me to calm down,
And be the same.
My sister know me,
And she know how I was raised,
How my momma was home at nights and we missed her for days.
How we never had our fathers, they're still stuck in their ways.
And how they'll probably be the same until they're old and gray.
Broken mirror.
This reflection fits me perfectly.
Cause inside im partly broken,
I wonder “did my father leave me purposely?”
Was this all Gods' plan?
Was it his quest to make me a man?
Because I see where I am strong,
But I also see where weakness stands…
Never thought I spill this much,
Never thought that you would listen,
Never knew that I would let it go,
I wasn't willing to admit it.
I was running – away,
And the evidence was in my sinning.
Stuck in my ways,
Someone hold an intervention.
I got to mention….
… Living In a broken world,
So full of sin.
Nobody locks him out,
So he keeps getting in.
I pray.
That we see our deadly futures in our actions,
Cause lord if you don't teach us;
We won't learn, we won't practice.
How to not let sin in just because he slithers sly by our eyes,
With charming eyes, and intriguing lies, seeming like a nice guy.
And getting high gives us freedom from thinking about it,
But that high is part time.
Eventually we come down;
From a higher state of consciousness into our right mind,
Or right time.
Things that matter,
Nothing masked,
But the notion that we need some closure,
So when we don't get closer,
Only draws us into focus,
On the comforting thoughts of Mary.
And hide behind a mask.
All is well.
Hidden in a shell, not thinking that,
Just around the corner is d**h or jail.
My generation's favorite slogan is “YOLO”,
But what they don't know is “YLT” if you follow – you know.
Boatloads of guilt.
I guess we're Guilt tripping.
Screaming “Jesus, let me get off the hook!”
But you're the fish that he's interested in keeping.
Casting pain, guilt, & shame,
We think its Gods punishment.
But that's the SAME pain. Guilt, and shame,
That's gonna help us out of this.
Life in a broken world.