You see,
Each time I torment myself
I'm sat back
Upon my shelf
Every time my hands are wet
I once again
Repay my debt
In merciless guilt
It's a sword's
Harshness built
Like the guilt of Judas
Who betrayed the man who freed us
And although he freed me
I am found once again guilty
My torment
My heart bent
Locked in the horror
Of what I have done
And after this,
How can I face the Son?
Son, freer of my life
I'm tormented by strife
Hear me cry out
Hear my lone shout
Help me in war
Don't watch me from afar
Help me to rid of this
Terrible dream
And now you know
I am not what I seem
And every time my hands are wet
I try to remember to never regret
For each pain is a lesson
For this pain is a beckon
To remember and not regret
To live and not forget
And yet tonight I am
Again found guilty
And that you can see
For my hands are wet
And I am now repaying
My debt