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Days always come, |
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filling the world around us all. |
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Tiny voices speak, |
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leading us to do the wrong things. |
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But we need a help on out |
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from this abyss of selfish doubting |
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Bury our sin, |
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reach out to it. |
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Laying it all |
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down at ?skull? of the world. |
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Feeling apathy, |
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of others and their wrongdoings. |
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The glory will not come |
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until we leave the world around us all. |
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But we need a helping hand |
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from this abyss of sinking sand. |
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Bury our sin, |
|
reach out to it. |
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Laying it all |
|
down at the ?skull? of the world. |
