David was a rotting sinner
Whose wrongs go through minds
Like handfulls of water, we
Don't realize who he was but
We know you, like tears
You've spilt every night, "God
why, I never meant to get
this close to damned,"
But you're still condemned, if
You don't crawl out of bed
Each morning and kiss the
Languid sun, and it sustains you
No more than the love of a liar
There is no warmth
Inside your den of guilt,
And you stopped questioning excuses
Long before you started making them.
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