Testo Captive Son

Asleep in a chair, the razor burn a reminder that here sits a new man. Left with nothing but a bible that stays shut for peace of mind. ‘Cause if you open up too much you'll get a twisted spine. And anywhere back home is just a place to hold your head up high. ‘Cause you're the man who took the bait to go on a hunt with fate. See it's all about the distance, holding our weapons towards the sky. And as the dark clouds continue billowing, we say, “as long as it wasn't me.” Sing praises over these ugly chords that do distort what it means to learn to walk in peace, holding an M16. You shouldn't sleep, but have the thought of waking from this hurtful game and make a stand for your foes. Perhaps a vengeful God would be appeased. Three years I've trained and now I'm strong enough to say my name's of no use to you. I mean you no harm, as I mean any beneath the stars. So carry on away renewed. I was called to love your worst enemies. And my last ditch remains off the battlefield. And this crooked back remains here to this day, but the conflict stays contained inside of me