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I’m sick of standing still,
watching as wishes kill my will to try.
Pity, heart-fulls, had my fill
and left me with nothing but an empty shell inside.
I’m sick of running down
life in a search for meaning and a crown.
Are these gifts part of a plan?
It puts in perspective the wiles and praise of man.
From your hand comes everything that I’ve ever longed for.
I feel my attempts at life are bland.
They sift like sand…
Some days, I look to the sky.
Sin makes you want to die.
I see far lights of Your plan.
I look at my hands,
scarred from pillaging and pride…
They see self-pity, angry strife--such a wretched life!
(Don’t blame the lights for showing the knife.)
I’m sick of wishing pain on my friends!
It seems that the anger breaks me in the end.
Nothing ever came of fighting against
brothers and sisters hedged by your defense.
from The Places I Go
released April 3, 2011
Written by Jacke Karashae.
All parts performed or programmed by Jacke Karashae
Additional synth by Rick Jackson.
all rights reserved