If one is a devil, I’ll carry that cross.
I left you, I loved you, and so I was lost.
The sheep who was not called by name
is burned with blame.
If you are the savior, then will you save me?
And what about Peter, denied the big three?
For you gave him room in the Age,
and left me rage.

So welcome to—so welcome to
The book that stones me after death.
So welcome to—so welcome to
I sold my spirit to pave your path;
this is my wrath.

And what of the silver that didn’t even see
inside of my pocket, thrown down by the tree,
and my body, strung up like yours.
Cut me down, Lord!

I’m clawing at your door, with thousands of years to burn.
Would I give myself for a King again, or have I learned?

My feet are so filthy, my fingers are cracked
With Matthew and Mark, Luke and John on my back.
Without me, there’s nothing to write,
and still, they bite.