I believe in the present
but not in your lord,
I believe in a spirit here
that’s fighting for more.

I believe in the righteousness
of what lays within
the crowd devil’s sword that
prevents it from being

this bone and lust kills me with a
bitter forced sadness
when I held it all in
I wasn’t able to express

the disheartened graces
a thousand wrinkled splotches
a feeling that this waste is
the agony I’m born with

For alone standing naked
before the mirror I see
Not a mind, not a spirit
But a body that isn’t me

I force away sadness
that trapped here I am
and live life as best as I
possibly can

I can’t die just yet, though
I’m not ready now
For perfection evades me
and a book barely made me

believe in a future
that’s not quite here yet
A future I’ll die in
without any regret.

the disheartened graces
a hundred wrinkled splotches
a feeling that this waste is
the agony I was born with
the disheartened graces
a thousand wrinkled splotches
a feeling that this waste is
the agony I live with
the disheartened graces
a million wrinkled splotches
a feeling that this waste was
the agony I’ll die with

the disheartened grace
and a clean shaven face
a feeling that the waste was
the key to perfection

the disheartened graces
all of the waste is
a key to perfection
I’ll go that direction…

And alone standing naked
before the mirror I see
Not a mind, not a spirit
But a body that is the key
not a mind, not a spirit
but a body on loan to
the spirit that is me

And alone standing naked
the disheartened graces
keys to perfection
keys to be me…