I thought this week away would fix

All the problems in our kiss

Yet here I am after our last mistake

You've got class and I've got to pray

Lust puts on a pretty face

and Tells wrong things that they're okay

Smiles that lie

Kisses that cry

Hands don't heal, instead they play.

Broken clay cannot make a pot

If it's been burned before

Here we are with broken hearts

Hardened past the point of use

We've struggled to put back the pieces

The glues and pastes just don't stick

Is there no way to restore this clay?

Only God can soften these bricks.

Oh Lord, we've been falling for so long

All we want is to be used by you.

To be pure, pick us off this filthy bed

Let us follow you instead.

Love puts on a joyous face.

Tells wrong things they'll have to wait

Smiles that shine

Kisses that fly

Hands don't hurt, they just embrace.