Because I am not perfection, Nor could I walk in its shadow, I choose to see the Man. I'm a born again sinner. The curtains at a close and the World a shot away from killing Itself, I would not turn to perfection In the dellusional mind that is man. No, I like my God as a man, Beat up like me; Wearing His scars in public humiliation. I can relate to this Deity, The imperfect manner of his sacrifice, The degredation. This Guy understands what its like For most of us everyday, So let Him bleed and suffer, He did so in a short life. He catches a glimpse of what its Like for us everyday in the imperfect World, The glorious sinners we are, And I walk with a suffered Jesus.