I'm losing contact
Forgetting what is real
Able to touch, but not able to feel
It's easier, to shut out everyone
I'm chasing after my newest distraction to escape it all
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So often, I'm the sleeping prayer
More often, I'm the weeping betrayer
Sometimes I play the martyr, become the traitor
The humbled sinner, has never been a role I knew to play

Treason
A pound of flesh is the debt
Leaving a crippled man
I'll give You all I have left
A straining outstretched hand
Is it enough?
Reach down
Take me back
My God, oh, my God