Call me Conversation Killer,
Can’t bunt to save my life,
But you know I’m a heavy hitter.
Check my statement for credit,
It’s not there, but you know I bet it.
Got no stacka chips to show, no, I spent it.
Stored them up in heaven like a present.
‘Cause the future’s brighter than the present,
So oh why bother to defend it?
I’m just here to praise and worship
With all my work and diving headfirst
Into God until I love His church.
Because right now, I still feel hurt. 
I hope that it’ll go, but I’ve got to work,
Find a way to invest, not sit and nurse
Myself like I’m just dirt,
God’s so good, He gives new birth
In dry old places, cellars turn
From death to full of wine urns.
No more to spurn,
His mercy grants worth!
Forget the hurt,
You’ll sing with mirth!


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