Why do we claim
We feel no quilt or shame
When it eats at our soul from within?
Why, as we dress,
Do we mask all our mess
Thus attempting to cover the sin?
Why, as we hide,
Do we foster a pride
So it grows as a cancer to kill?
How will they see
All we claim Him to be
When we hold to our righteousness still?
Why do we lie
As if He didn’t die
For the sick and the lame? Can’t you see?
Why do we not
Join the crowd, join the lot
Of the wretched who’s driven to plea?
Lord, please forgive
All our sins as you give
Of your grace we so desperately need.
Lord, I confess
In this life, I’m a mess
And I need you, my Jesus, indeed.