We’re all just punks in this world
standing on someone’s shoulders
We think we’re special when we’re not
Someone has come to show us
One has shown us…
God, get me to not be a punk or a bum
Get me to be someone good who can run
with you
We, all, are humbled sometimes
when we’re shown where we’ve come from
and race like horses in the rain
those which win known as mudders
Go, you mudders…
God, get me to not be a punk or a bum
Get me to be someone good who can run
with you
Jesus, You were someone who could run
with God the Father
Get me to run like your brother
When you smell the coffee burning on the stovetop
it means it will be gone
So, please, come turn it off
The heat will burn it up
Can we accept what we are
when we’re made to be honest?
Before this place becomes a waste
As it is mostly hollow
Holy-hollowed…
God, get me to not be a punk or a bum
Get me to be someone good who can run
with you
Jesus, You were someone who could run
with God the Father
Get me to run like your brother
And not someone only a mother could love
Living for yourself is pretty easy
But it is only temporary
Living with others is difficult
That’s how to spend the rest of our days