| Will the waves of time wash away the pain in my heart?
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| Can i bury the knife that has pierced my soul
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| Or will i continue to turn it to remind me of my own blindness?
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| Because i find no touch of grace to surprise my eyes
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| Or rest my spirit
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| And i have come to realize my good moments were forged in self deception
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| And the question that plagues my mind
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| Is grace enough?
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| To build a bridge once burned
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| To fill what is hollow with the substance of virtue
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| Though the wings of a dove have wiped the tears from my eyes
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| This tounge has fanned the flames of unforgiveness
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| But love suffers long and rejoices in truth
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| And this imperfect creation is shortcoming
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| But striving none the less for that which is eternal |