The focus is not always quite clear

Sometimes clouded by drugs, fights, and beer

Sometimes clouded by death, defeat, and fear

Sometimes clouded by ambition

Sometimes clouded by success

I often forget that You must become greater and I must become less

This is not a game

This is not just some test

This is a question of righteousness

And as with all things between You and I, my Lord

There is no comparison

I stand before You in Your presence like a sack of ***** linens

"My God, My God!" I cry

I am trapped and chained in my pit of sin

I know I cannot win

For even my works are as filthy rags in the presence of the King

What then shall I say to thee?

"Oh look, Lord!  See how I fed the poor and hungry?"

"See how I tithed, Lord?  How I gave ever so generously?"

My God, my God will ask ever so quietly

"Child, did you ever even know Me?"