If my sins returned as monsters
   if each lie awoke a ghoul
   there would be no hiding place
   nor shelter for my soul.

For my wrongs are many
   and forgiveness has been spent
   what with all the ills I've wrought
   'twould be inane to try repent.

The careless sounds slipped from my tripping lips
   the thoughtless flapping of my tongue
   those simple phrases cost me dearly
   on my shirtsleeves they've been hung.

Looking back at past events
   I find it quite absurd
   that God dost grant us no device
   to unspeak a wicked word.