I pray everyday that I don't get that call to the Throne. Where they'll ask "Empty your pockets and let's see what you've got to show." As I pour out excuses my knees will give under me. Oh, they'll say "We gave you life but we don't deal in sympathy." How I long to be sin free and happy. And without such a case of crippling pride. If only I had ignorance. Then I might have bliss. Now, I've just got no excuse. And they'll nail me for this. I can't lay the blame with my friends for the things that I've done. I can't point my finger at you for the way I've become. I'm biding my time praying there'll be time left when I come around. There's just no telling when I'll come around.