God, I can hear you. Your voice is quite loud enough.
But I'm just not ready to let go.
I've claimed my title as a ruthless pharaoh,
And you can give me all you've got, but there's nothing I don't know.

I've seen it all before. Every heaven-sent plague
With their black and bloody shock.
I'm in control, I can handle this fine.
I'll wring out the blood, and wipe my hands on my smock.

Then take a step back and look at your work.
There are shivers through my spine.
But I put on a jacket and ignore it every time.
The plagues may be yours, but the prisoners are mine.

I'm one of them you know. Trapped here in myself.
I've created this nightmare for me.
I don't need salvation, I did this on my own.
Your children need saving, so go set them free.

I'm hit with your missiles, and I grip my staff firmly.
I think I can do this alone.
My teeth are clenched tightly and I breathe through my nose.
My tears flood my cheeks and I match your children's groans.

It didn't used to be like this.
It really didn't, though that's hard to believe.
I'm trying to get back to the old world, the light world,
But darkness wasn't just your doing.

Do I get on my knees now? Release all control?
Do I let go, and let myself fall?
Does your grace truly extend to all?
Even miserable wretches that put up a wall?

I can't. I just can't. I've been trying so long,
But I think it is just too late.
Part the waters, set them free, but forget about me.
I'm a sinner. I'll accept my fate.

It didn't used to be like this.
I wasn't always this way.
I used to more frequently pray.
I used to be happier and healthier than today.

I turned into what you see, over time.
I became what I am. I'm not proud.
I can't turn time, though my magicians have tried.
It's not in bloody water I have drowned.

It is me.