We’re still waiting

But so far it’s been fruitless

Your own guilty conscience

Makes a terrible witness

To do what you’ve done

And make no restitution

Is the act of a coward

Not a good hearted person

And when you awaken

In a rough, cold, damp sweat

Think of my face, her face

Your face, And regret

Make good with yourself

And maybe Him too,

But me, I still see

Just a man with no clue