You held me back from the post near the road that I've been looking for.

From your songs of wrongs not a smile, off your lips not even a blissful chord.

Purify me with a flame and a haste of his grace in the name of the Lord,

Singing carry me high from this world.

After the song was sung I stared back at the ruin that laid in wait for you.

For your cracking drum finds your trials are meaningless for all you endeavor too.

And without my mind my time with you ends years too soon

Carried from my voice is a solemn definition. My indecisive choice, meets my rash decision.