I used to write like I was running out of time

Some days my soul feels so poor it doesn't have a dime

I'm still pouring poison into my soul

My mind used to be as sharp maybe it's grown dull

I still pursue my God

He guides my life and where I trod

But lately I keep struggling trying to put him there

At the top of this barren fair

He invested so much in me

Was it all a waste?

I feel like a patriot in Boston dumping that tea

It wasn't in me, his faith was placed

I know his faith is in himself shining through me

If my future is blown from my past

He is not to blame