His eye has caught me now I can't escape his gaze
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The Artist holds me up under the light, appraising me
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In shame, I cast my eyes to the ground
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He'll take hold of me, and flesh it out, with vengeance, with a purpose,
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Blade in hand
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Carve me up, strip away, tear mine down, my shape is yet to come
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When will I rouse, from the perfect rest he give?
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How will the world see me then, as his own, his masterpiece
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His eye has caught me now I can't escape his gaze
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The Artist holds me up under the light, appraising me
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In shame, I cast my eyes to the ground
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My twisted shape and burdened thoughts will be severed
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Sorrow will fade with my nature restored, my nature renewed
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The shape He wants, that I can't see.
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A Renewal
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In Fear And Faith |