I am a silhouette perched on these broken hands,
I am nothing more than a figure in the dark.
Hold me down, temptation’s seeping at the edge
and Lord I know this won’t be the last mistake that I make.
Tonight is a perfect example of the carelessness
that human hearts carry when arbitrations are to be made.
And when the world ends, will there be angels?
Will heaven call out my name, bring me closer to the gates.
I’ve exposed myself to the core for you.
Stripped bare and careless towards what I believe,
all in hopes that my heart heals by your touch.
Need I be reminded comfort shan’t be granted
by your hands, but by His touch?
Tonight my hands are stained with regret.
I’ll recite my imperfections with no regards or indiscretions.
I’ll lay with regret on my chest and I’ll ask once more…
When the world ends, will there be angels?
Will heaven call out my name?
Bring me closer to the gates.
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