Perfect, I can’t quite seem to add up to Your means of
being holy. Do you still see me when I curse, backbite,
try to run and hide? Say I’m something that I’m not,
fooling everyone. Hypocrite, take it in, you’re dead
before My eyes. Perfect, you faker, I see who you are,
you cannot hide.
Is there no sympathy? My lips are quick to speak. In
selfishness I do what I want until the end. Blinded, my
way I can’t see, my way is right to me, in the end, my
way is death.
My way wretched, my way misled, taste the poison I am
spoonfed.
I need Your sympathy, my wretched self deserves nothing.
Teach me Your ways, be my everything, You will see the
death of me. My way is not what I want, body shaking,
sick to the core. A hypocrite deserving of death, do you
see how wretched I am?
Are you like me? Are you filthy? Sin in the blood? Guilty
like the rest of us? Selfish we are looking out for one,
if I say I’m blameless I’m deceiving myself. I am
wretched, I am misled, I need Your grace, will You take
this from me?