I have died a thousand deaths to become who you have made me to be.
The pain, the loss, the rest... repeat, how many times in retreat?
Call me to give up what I least know best to just be in a lesser way.
Every loss you redeem, I live to re-see with my eyes what my heart cannot believe.
How deep does this go, this dirty white snow as you bleed me back to life.
The grapes of your vine, the slop from the swine a far cry from this lost Childs relief.
And there I see you running to me - your clean robe, its robbing my skin.
The could have, have been's as you're running again
and again, and again, and again.
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