Son Of Hell

Lord,

please tell me what it is I used to do.

Was I not a prophet, or a dreamer, or a seer?

All people I had fooled.

Please tell me who it is used to be.

Did I not proselytize over land and sea,

begetting twice the sons of hell as me?

And tell me, Lord,

who holds the key the heaven's narrow doors?

'Cause every time I try to open them

I open my right hand and find a stone

And with my left,

outstretched for every gift that I produce,

I lay in wait for seven more

to compensate for every gift that I misuse

Oh, in all I've done

I've done all in vain

'till I learned to say,

thy will be done

In all I was,

I was all in vain

I will learn to obey,

thy will be done.

All who hold to the words to surrender all

To who gives and takes away, and builds from naught.