I hear when Jesus tells me that i need to bite my tongue
and my teeth, they try to cage it, but the prison comes undone
and everything i'm saying goes falling to the floor
and you're trying not to trip on it as you walk out the door
my pride negates the iron bar i've driven through my neck
compounded by the effort that i constantly regret
can you show me some patience while i try to see this through?
what goes on inside of me is not always the same as what i do
i tell you that i'm trying, but i'm sure you have your doubts
and this awful weight i'm dragging i could mostly do without
if you still want to love me, it won't come without a cost
the fight to be much better is a fight i've often lost