Karma holds us in her deadly charms
And convinces us that we fall in the end
Cause we swallow hard at our redemption tales
But have yet to taste all of their sweet mercies
But see, my darling?
You are twenty gospel songs
To souls with aching desires to sing
And tonight we'll craft ourselves as perfect skylines
But in the end we'll see we're less than that
These are words that I've rehearsed in my head
I love you, but these bones are for you to love instead
And if God, he can forgive, why can't I give grace to me?
To a man in need of shreds of clemency
Your story is my glory
Your story is my glory
I am the mannequin's eyes
But your story is my glory