I'm a sinner and a slacker
my need for love is great,
in a world that's got me down
torn by fear and hate.
Who among us can be perfect
while human and so weak?
The sureness of a refuge
is all that I now seek.
Forgiving me of my sinning
understand my being lost
upon a sea of misery
scared and tempest tossed.
Dreams have all been shattered
none are now left whole
and Lord I'm scared of losing
my immortal soul.
There is still some fight within me
to strike back if I can,
against my earthly enemies
while I remain a man.
To meekly turn the other cheek
is something I can't do,
thereby failing in my duty
to strictly obey you.
So allow me Lord the privilege
if it should come to pass
to stand up like old Sampson
with the jawbone of an ass.
by Robert Quinn
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