| Turn my heart into a stone, let me sink
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| I’ve turned my suffering into a cause for hate
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| By his decree we were compelled to reconcile
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| You cannot force my love
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| I’ll hold onto my pain
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| The power to choose who lives and who will die is not my right
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| In doing so I kick the Lord off His seat of rightful judgment over man
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| God knows I’ve tried to fight off sinful thoughts
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| The crown you wear
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| It burns your hair and sears your skin
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| You cry aloud, «Let there be light? |
| Let there be nothing!»
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| As master I came, yet now my tone is changed
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| They’ve torn out my guts and held me down to bleed
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| But that left me empty and open to the light
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| Forgive me now, I trust Your providence
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| Meanwhile, Photius was captured and tortured
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| The empress restored my godson to my wife
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| What can I do? |
| The emperor’s against me
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| Grant me only the power to change my perspective
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| The crown you wear
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| It digs into your precious flesh
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| You cry aloud, «Let there be light? |
| Let there be nothing!»
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| Father, designer, instiller of fear
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| Not long thereafter my wife’s lover died
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| No longer writhing in pleasure and joy
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| Writhing in agony in his own filth
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| Father, commander, a shepherd of men
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| I could not go down this dread path of sin
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| Combat the demons with fasting and prayer
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| Flush out the swamp of filth in your own heart
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| Ever marching on
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| I feel… |