Locus Outlets 1.5

With a glare in my eyes, I contemplate, comparing the lies//hoping God is there in the sky, or I'm lost, prepared to collide//with the hard truth, yes he's my father, not my guard too//I have angels for that, trouble- my faith makes a part through when I start to//say Grace, "Lord I pray for...", if my heart was as senitive as my mind is eyes'll constantly stay sore//I make more problems for myself like I've been given one role but decided to play four//plus I brace tight, not willing to quit, say my line and my peace regardless of stage fright//and I made life, bigger than conceivable understanding or planning, lost hungry, and plagued, I//exist on a rift, luckily equiped with the gift, through shit I'll sift to find truth so my spirit can lift//though it's made of remains like it's built with the silt of desires burning from failures learning and made high with a riff//of the ashes of the past, compared to God, we come and go in a dash//what's the difference between you, a hoe and a fag, all souls can be broken and lag//behind the rest, and take pride in the number of girls you caress but shame to confess//to a man in a clergyman's dress, saying ya up for "the test" but been failing the one that began as you took ya first breath//