Karma holds us in her deadly charmsnAnd convinces us that we fall in the endnCause we swallow hard at our redemption talesnBut have yet to taste all of their sweet merciesnnBut see, my darling?nYou are twenty gospel songsnTo souls with aching desires to singnnAnd tonight we'll craft ourselves as perfect skylinesnBut in the end we'll see we're less than thatnThese are words that I've rehearsed in my headnI love you, but these bones are for you to love insteadnAnd if God, he can forgive, why can't I give grace to me?nTo a man in need of shreds of clemencynnYour story is my glorynYour story is my glorynI am the mannequin's eyesnBut your story is my glory