Oh, my God, is this real?
Is this how Your love is supposed to feel?
All our plans all for naught.
When we say Your hand is on every one.
I do.
So I stray from the light.
Cause Your plans never look a thing like mine.
Are we damned, every one?
Will Your hand ever come to take me home?
To you.
Take me home.
Perfect plan, can it be?
I am tired of fighting to be free.