They say only drink when you’re happy, but she uses her glass to take her way from Him.
One drink, it’ll taste better.
Two drinks, she’ll be fine.
Three drinks goes her judgment
Four drinks and she’s dialing.
Drunk is the stumble back to her heart.
Hate doesn’t exist without love and love is what she can’t make die.
What’s the point in life when you had what you couldn’t lose and lost it?
Question anesthetic became the truth serum and she’s a mess of herself.
One drink too many and she’s at His feet in Heaven’s version of a drunk dial.
When you don’t know where you’re going, you go where you know, and all she knows is Him.
She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t want Him to know she’s there. Hand up to hide her breath, He’s on the other side of her doubt.
He’s quiet and she knows He knows. This is their ritual.
He doesn’t hang up. It’s the only way she comes to Him.
They say that He doesn’t want a drunk, but He’ll take her any way He can get her.
Her thoughts are stumbling, but she can still hum with the echo.
They say He wants her like she used to be, but He wants her like she is.
You can forget the words and remember the tune.
They say she’s never been further, but she’s right-here far away, not far-away right here.
She’s really lost, not pretend found. Closer than ever. Ugly truth becomes her.
A truth only a Father can love.
He’s the silence in the thunder when the storm rips her open. She runs when she’s sober, goes home when she’s drunk.
Passed out, she reaches for Him like a pillow.
They only want her clean.
Stripped down, she curls up in Him like a blanket.
and He’s the only one who will take her dirty.