It’s cold
I feel old
Won’t do what I’m told
I feel cold
Don’t scold
I’m untold
Story’s on the page, but I fold
Where’d I go?
This scraping low
Where did I go?
Ow, I think I–oh, oh…
Oh no…
Freefall’s slow…

Go slow,
Gentle with me, I feel cold
Go slow,
Catch me, oh Your hands, unfold…

Falling again,
Feel like–whatever, just grim,
Meant to sit and finish a letter but then
It got too heavy for me and I fell into my bin…

Dammit, dammit,
Car drives by and a kid is crying,
Waaa, that’s me, there’s no denying,
I can’t sit here and squish myself, it’s just my priding…
I won’t wound myself, won’t ruin it.

I’m just so SAD.
Why will it never GO, Dad?
I don’t want to, it’s bad…
Why can’t I just let go, Dad?
I really need You to hold me so I’m not trapped,
Why won’t I let go? I need a Hand.

Already, moving slow, let it go,
Messiah’s got His plan, move slow.
You won’t regret the letting go,
You’ve already moved, 
You’re just waiting for proof,
It’ll be okay, you’re stooped,
But you’re not beaten, crushed or duped.
Hang onto Me and we’ll make it through.

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