Lyrics

In a bathroom stall I receive all the world's truths I'm a priest in a confession booth Hidden from the faces of my confessors I hear their stories Of their weak shortcomings Their desperate attempts With my elbows on my knees I shake my head and say: "I forgive you, brother, and I'll carry that burden also," Then I flush It was back when the squinty little slits smiled almost perpetually Radiant with compassion and love But in a sense weak with compromise Sacrifice as a staple, an affliction Ugliness held closе like an unwanted gasp of air Slits grown swollen, thеn rugged, and cry out, "Things that I used to do, Lord, I won't do no more"