Coming Home

You say you want a living sacrifice Well I am a burnt offering Crawling off the alter and Back in to the fire And with my smoke-filled lungs I cry out for freedom While locking and chaining myself To my rotting desires AND I HATE THE STENCH, BUT I SWALLOW THE KEY. AND WITH IT STUCK IN MY THROAT, CAN YOU HEAR ME? CAN YOU HEAR ME I'M COMIN' HOME, I'M COMIN' HOME I'M COMIN' HOME, I'M COMIN' HOME, BUT I'M STILL A LONG WAY OFF I am shelled-shocked, and I have walked Through the trenches full of tears With the mortars of memory