What Gives

You make me suffer with the weight of guilt for sins I don’t even believe in 

All for the price of the heart you stole by your careless thievin

I slept in pristine sheets, but you muddied them with your broken conscience

Sullied my good heart with your reckless moral despondence 

I can’t repent for crimes against a God I’m not sure I follow 

I can’t live with the clutter you use to fill up what’s hollow  

I talked to the sky once and it told me to live 

What you search for inside, death cannot give