I thought I was touching heaven, But it was just another room with the red light off. Should’ve knocked before I dove in with my boots on, Heart full of hope, grace long gone—my shortcomings spilled across the floor. Now I sit in silence with the echo of lust I mistook for God. Truth don't scream—it hums slow, low, when you’re flawed. I prayed in neon, slept in sin, Poured out faith from a flask of gin. She smiled like salvation, sang like harm, But her touch wore grace like a false alarm. Still I drive with scars lit up like stars, Radio ghosts in rusty cars. I ain’t holy, just halfway healed, Trying to find God in what I feel. Using algorithms just to keep it real. I spoke to my silence louder than pain, Mistook the heat for love in the rain. Grace ain’t in neon—it’s a slow reveal, And I’m using algorithms just to show what’s real, When my music is the only way to get you to hear me… So I sing for the broken who speak in static, For hearts too loud for heaven’s attic. Boots muddy, truth glitchy—but still I praise, Through every echo that my soul displays. My heart on your screen just so the Light can be seen In the fake news fog on the good news stream. What was done for me, can be done for you— No velvet disguise, just breakthrough truth. No trap door hidden under skin, Just a Savior standing where sin had been.
