I've lied to those I love;
I've done things I regret.
But forgiveness comes, like the mourning dove,
Reminding me to not hurt again.

I've stolen time that wasn't mine
To take, to use, to prosper.
I've picked a fight; I've paid a fine
As reconciliation for my sins.

My last confession, I try to hide
From others, and even myself.
But it doesn't matter how hard I try,
I will never be perfect.