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
Oct 2, 2020
Oct 2, 2020 at 8:57 PM UTC
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
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