Here I am.
Crying tears of desperation at the altar of deceit again.
An imperfect sacrifice.
Gifts I am am given, I have unknowingly received
The own faults, the ones I am too willing to confess.
In penance I kneel to
A jugde with warped righteousness
One whose his aquittal will be my all
He follows his own, alien religion.
Grant me absolution.
And in penitent tears I will rejoice once more
Before this curate of his own idealistic law
Bless me and as I feel your hand at my brow
Let the past drain through us,
Like the blood of the lamb
It is in this moment
I long to be reconciled
We live to lie...
We love
