I just need a moment one moment to myself
I've been writing open letters in a life of writer's block
Make me see
Make me feel
A cage or a coma, the pen and ink is therapy
I counted every single sign
You revealed to me

His presence is near
but it's myself who I fear
It's myself I fear

Page after page, line after line
I'm running out of things to say
I'm running out of time
My hands keep on writing but nothing makes any sense
These words on paper, they've all been said before
Speak through me. I'll trust You like a torch
Now watch me burn

As patience and the pendulum fought through the night
my frustration buries me
The words keep on coming
but everything seems to blend
I've tried so hard to write about being real
that I think I've forgotten how to feel

Prisoner. Prisoner. Captive by the words I can't write
Prisoner. Prisoner. Shepard me with Your light

If I'm being honest, it's hard to be honest with You
I'll be transparent, but it's so hard to follow through
If I write down my darkest desires
If I reveal the things my mind conspires
Would You still love me?
Would You still love me?
I'll open up like a worn out old book
I'll open up with feelings I overlook
Would You still love me?
Would You still love me?