are my sins washed clean in the blood of a perfect man, no
could i hold misconceptions about sin or perfection, i don't know
if i was rinsed in anything was tolerance within
took time and meditation and confession to a friend
some friends got laid on tables who did not get up again
i came to understand how pain can purify a man
if that blood washed me
i would not need the lamb
enough to feel it crush me
that pushed me to repent
there's so many ways to fill up your soul
there's so many substances each vessel comes to hold
i tend to think we're specialized
that could be my ego
i know we're all connected
but the binding is illegal
i'm not worried about the afterlife
see, they don't go where we go
there's a place for hopeless sinners
but i'll probably make a tree grow