I made my slow way home
limping on broken bones
out of the thickest pine
across the county lines
on to your wooden stairs
I know you can repair
I know you've seen the light
I know you'll get me right

right
right
right

I own a sinners heart
I know the rain falls hard
I know the currency
I know the things you'll need
I hope he hears my prayers
I see you cut your hair
I know the saving type
I know you'll get me right

right
right
right

But, Jesus I've fallen
I don't mind the rain if
I meet my maker
I'll meet my maker clean

But, Jesus the [bad word] is
I've [bad word] so hard to believe
I'll meet my maker
I'll need my maker

to cure of my doubting blood
and drain me of the sins I love
and take from me my disbelief
I know it [bad word] easily
but it remains inside of me
it battles and devours me
it cuddles up the side of me
and whispers it convinces me I'm

right
right
right
right
right
right
right
right
right
right
right