Dear Lord:
I am again paranoid.
I am again judgemental.
I am again held accountable, me, me, me.
I have issues of pointing fingers at those around me you see.
Point them at me, Lord.
I have said and done wrong too.
Praising you on one hand.
In another instant there is someone I've doomed.
Help me not sin in speculation.
Telling distorted lies in correlation.
Circumstancial evidence is sometimes enough.
Most likely it adds up until there's a bust.
He says she says God hates gossip.
I've ripped out someone's heart, Lord, rip out my tongue.
Confessions won.
I've had enough.
I don't need applause or praises from mortal man.
My character is flawed and integrity shagrinned.
Dear Lord, dear, Lord.
Hear me now.
Bring on your peace and I'll be still.
Confessions won.