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Last Rites

Trauma

Bless me father, for I have sinned
Chills run down your spine and under your skin
When I tell the things I had to do
Now I need you

To tell me words to comfort me
Of things that were never meant to be
Of violent crimes that I confess
Is it too late to bless?

Last rites for a life gone wrong
I lost the way, I never belonged
Last rites for a heart gone cold
For this wayward man, for this wretched soul

I have tread a trail of treachery
Every friend I made I would betray
All my loves would end so bitterly
Every kindness thrown away

So tell me words to comfort me
Of things that were never meant to be
Of violent crimes that I confess
Is it too late to bless?

Last rites