I've plugged resolve full of holes counted the hills I've died on and let the blood coagulate into second guesses eroding my adrenal into a bastard gland hustlin' it's juice for a shady spot in my bowels my cognitive dissonance says my pain is a result of my sin and blessings are born from faith but Sabeans Chaldeans and fire from heaven all had their own take on a future of pus and ashes nonetheless a battered hope still pulls itself up on it's riddled haunches pleading for the poorest version of death or glory to squeeze out every last drop of gratitude