Ghost Ride the Whip

White and red
like the blood and the bread,
with these three nails
You gave in to death,
and now,
we just cope.

I don’t need the body
but I’ll gladly take the wine
and I’ll drink until it’s fine.
With the shame You supplied,
weaponized,
and refined

I cant tell if i’ve died,
but it matters less
and less all the time.

Jesus, take the wheel
and I’ll just close my eyes,
I probably shouldn’t be driving
but You can’t take me alive.

Blame this road’s crooked lines
as they merge and divide,
I find poison and rhyme
because I’m guilty all the time,
and I know,
‘we just cope.’

Well, there’s headlights ahead
would you please let this end
with steel and cement.
I believe! I repent!
I let go,

take me home.

I cant tell if i’ve died
but it matters less
and less all the time.

So, Jesus, take the wheel
and I’ll just close my eyes
and pray we’re alone on the road tonight,
because You won’t take me alive.

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