Cross

I'm locked in place.

I talk to God but not to his face.

To myself when I'm dropped in snakes.

A court of thought and I lost the case.

It's sort of odd the cost of faith, like a sword across my face and I'm soft like frost or grace.

Upon this song I got a Boss to chase, like I'm up on the cross and it's blood I taste.

There's not enough love to replace the loss I've faced.

It's tough to trace where I got lost in my haste.

I swear that I'm locked in place and there's not another spot to chase.