When she walks in, will she feel the stain of my shame that’s been left on the room?
Will she see the failure written on the walls in the form of tears cried out to God?
And when she sees it, when she smells my shame, pungent in the air?
Will she see the failure written on the walls in the form of tears cried out to God?
And when she sees it, when she smells my shame, pungent in the air?
Will she understand why my heart feels bare?
When my roommate walks in, after I’ve committed my sin,
Will she think of me worse, than I’ve ever been?
Will she think me wanton, unchaste, a whore?
Or will she see through the guise, look right through my eyes,
To the sinner inside, trembling in her boots, afraid to die, knowing she could’ve been saved.
A small little twig, fighting off the devil wind,
Is tossed about on a breeze made of sin.
The sun up in Heaven looks down on her plight.
Will I be roasted?
