[Intro – Spoken, over church bells, distant choir, and the creak of a confessional door] Yo. I don't come to you as a saint. I come to you as a sinner. The same hands that held the foil Are the hands I lift up now. The same knees that knelt in the alley Are the knees that kneel in the pew. Lord, I am not worthy. But say the word. And my soul shall be healed. [Verse 1 – Slow, heavy, storytelling] I was the prodigal, way before I knew the word Spent my inheritance on powder, on the pipe, on the absurd Left my father's house in spirit long before I left his door Fed the pigs my very soul, then I came back for more And I sat in the confessional one night, couldn't speak a word The priest said "take your time, my son, the Lord has heard" I said "Father, I have done things that I cannot repeat" He said "neither has the man beside you, kneel and take a seat" And I told him everything, the blood, the loss, the shame The brother that I handed the pipe, I even said his name And when I finished, silence, then the priest said soft and low "Absolve te. Go in peace. Now let the old man go." [Chorus – Aching, anthemic, cathedral reverb] Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison Lord, have mercy on the man I've been Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa Wash me in the blood that never runs out Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison Lord, have mercy on the man I am now [Verse 2 – Faster, more intense, saints in the struggle] St. Augustine, he knew the life I lived The brothels, the hedonism, the everything he did He said "Lord, make me chaste, but not yet" And I've said that same prayer with a pipe in my hand and regret The good thief on the cross, he had no time to change No novena, no confession, just a single cry and range "Remember me when you come into your kingdom, Lord" And Christ said "today you'll be with me" — that's the promise, that's the Word So if the thief can make it, and Augustine can too Then there's hope for a scruffy kid who did the things I do St. Dismas and the Doctor of Grace Both of them got in, both of them got a place [Chorus – Aching, anthemic, cathedral reverb] Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison Lord, have mercy on the man I've been Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa Wash me in the blood that never runs out Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison Lord, have mercy on the man I am now [Bridge – Stripped back, spoken over soft organ and a single candle flicker] I know what they say about the Church. And I know what the Church has done. I know the scandals, I know the silence. I know the men who wore the collar and broke the trust. I'm not here to defend the institution. I'm here because the Sacraments are real. Because the Eucharist is real. Because the priest who absolved me didn't have clean hands either And that's the point. We're all broken. We're all carrying rot. And the Church is a hospital for the sick. Not a museum for the saints. That's why I'm still here. Not because the men are holy. Because the God is. [Verse 3 – Slow, wrestling with faith] St. Thomas Aquinas said the Eucharist is the summit But Thomas doubted first, he had to see and touch and sum it Up, he had to put his fingers in the wounds of Christ Before he'd believe the thing he'd seen in sacrifice So I don't judge the doubter, I don't judge the fear I just light a candle and I keep the rosary near St. John of the Cross wrote about the dark night When God is silent, when there is no light And I've been in that night, for years, for decades Felt nothing but the empty when I kneeled and when I prayed But the saints say the night is where the faith is made Where the soul is stripped and the idols all fade And the only thing that's left is the naked, bare belief That there's a God who loves you, even through the grief [Verse 4 – Fast, confessional, building] So I go to Mass on Sunday, sometimes I'm the only young one there Sometimes I feel the eyes upon me, sometimes I don't care I kneel at the rail, I put my tongue out for the bread And I believe it's not a symbol, it's the Body that he said I don't understand the mystery, I don't understand the how But I've seen what happens to men who walk in doubt They either find the Rock or they drown in the sea And I found my Rock on my knees in a police cell, quietly And I'm not the same man that I was before But I'm not the saint I want to be, not yet, not sure So I keep on going, keep on kneeling, keep on trying Keep on failing, keep on confessing, keep on crying Keep on believing that the mercy is more Than the mess I've made since I first walked out that door [Bridge 2 – Chant-like, layered, cathedral reverb] Tantum ergo Sacramentum Veneremur cernui Et antiquum documentum Novo cedat ritui Praestet fides supplementum Sensuum defectui Genitori, Genitoque Laus et jubilatio
