I’m getting born again, Not for the first time.
The promise is comforting, at least, for a while.

Have you ever wondered why I can’t seem to live with myself? Have you ever asked if I really do want to be made well?

I can behave, when I want to.
I have been brave when I didn’t, but I’m never not afraid,
So I’m always getting saved.

I’m getting praised again, despite all my vices.
I’ll see you around, old friend, at my next crisis.

Have you ever wondered why you can’t seem to get out of this Hell? Have you ever asked if you really do want me to get well?

I can behave, when I want to.
I have been brave when I didn’t, but I’m never not afraid,
So I’m always getting saved.

Do you know what that does to a heartbeat?
Do you know I’d take up with any old creep?
Cause I’m never not afraid, So I’m always getting saved.

Learning to walk at my age, Learning to talk at my stage.
It isn’t pretty but I swear there could be an unforeseen grace,
in a hand reaching out to an empty space,
to a voice crying out in the void

“I believe...”

in ending these false beginnings, a time to die, a time to grow up in the practice of resurrection, attendance to a thousand cuts.
not for Heaven, or for deliverance but for every act that keeps us alive And I won’t forget your forgiveness, I’ll bear it like a thorn in my side.