Consuming diseases of the flesh/
Keep ignoring the notion that I know I don't know how to retrieve what's best/
Yet I continue to jest at each mess I create when I deviate from the One by whom i've been blessed/
How many steps wrecked by wretched sin until I rest on the chest of the Carpenter trying to remodel my spiritual den?/
I thirst for the dessert of His living water to immerse my soul's turf but it's tough when your search leaves the Father & is focused on the world's purse to find your self-worth/
I need Him to scrape every crumb of hurt from my plate so I can escape feeling numb & succumb to the buffet of grace He has placed for free right in front of my face/
Touch me up with Your paintbrush dipped in love/
I'm chipped & faded like a tainted canvas pitched in the attic above/
Cobwebs and dust, my frame static with rust, I've had it with the smell of musty habits and worldly lust/
Just one stroke of Your brush/
Please I need it so much/
I must be restored back to original form before my heart and soul bust/
It's You I adorn through sun and storms/
When I mourn You remind me of the thorns by which the Son was torn so that I could be reborn/
I used to live a past marked with perjury, until the day You performed a miracle of spiritual open heart surgery/
Now I’m penning penitent sentences of repentance to prevent penance & cleanse every instance of sin persistent in singeing my soul's skin/
I'm shedding sin like snakeskin/
Climbing out from this cold, mental den with a grin/
Hibernation can do wonders for my pen but true inspiration comes solely under Him/
So I step out into the sunlight of new life/
Removed the disguise I used to hide pride & lies/
Now immune to every vice the serpent uses to bite/
Perfectly in tune with the Light/
I keep the Bridegroom directly in sight as He directs the insight of this dialect I use to dissect my deepest hopes & regrets/
Keep ignoring the notion that I know I don't know how to retrieve what's best/
Yet I continue to jest at each mess I create when I deviate from the One by whom i've been blessed/
How many steps wrecked by wretched sin until I rest on the chest of the Carpenter trying to remodel my spiritual den?/
I thirst for the dessert of His living water to immerse my soul's turf but it's tough when your search leaves the Father & is focused on the world's purse to find your self-worth/
I need Him to scrape every crumb of hurt from my plate so I can escape feeling numb & succumb to the buffet of grace He has placed for free right in front of my face/
Touch me up with Your paintbrush dipped in love/
I'm chipped & faded like a tainted canvas pitched in the attic above/
Cobwebs and dust, my frame static with rust, I've had it with the smell of musty habits and worldly lust/
Just one stroke of Your brush/
Please I need it so much/
I must be restored back to original form before my heart and soul bust/
It's You I adorn through sun and storms/
When I mourn You remind me of the thorns by which the Son was torn so that I could be reborn/
I used to live a past marked with perjury, until the day You performed a miracle of spiritual open heart surgery/
Now I’m penning penitent sentences of repentance to prevent penance & cleanse every instance of sin persistent in singeing my soul's skin/
I'm shedding sin like snakeskin/
Climbing out from this cold, mental den with a grin/
Hibernation can do wonders for my pen but true inspiration comes solely under Him/
So I step out into the sunlight of new life/
Removed the disguise I used to hide pride & lies/
Now immune to every vice the serpent uses to bite/
Perfectly in tune with the Light/
I keep the Bridegroom directly in sight as He directs the insight of this dialect I use to dissect my deepest hopes & regrets/
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