i silently sit in this chair, clearly aware
of what i did but what i did isn't what you think it is
and so my anger grows, throwing me on my toes,
while i sip my cognac like eyes sip prose,
glancing over my own shoulder, buried in thought
catching memories that i have fought
only to realize that the way to win
is to lord-over this sin
but taking more sips both physical and mental
bringing me back to the what is central
centrally abiding by the tidings arriving through scritpure
and picture final outcomes on mind's fixture
visualization
knowing the fic-tion of politics whored with reli-gion
twis-ting while enlisting to truth's notion
and like some supernatural healing potion
my spirit drinks and is healed
if two plus two is four
then the knowledge points to the number being sealed
and hope fulfilled, galore
once that happens, everything will change
become revealed
in an effort to bring it back the same
as it was before tainted love became tainted
and sin upon hearts was painted
then, in that hour, we can really rejoice
because the one who causes to become
would've fulfilled exactly what he voiced