And how much til I'm crawling out of my skin-
all of this churning deep down in my belly,
burning down the soles of my shoes.

Justice in my hands feels so weak,
and Truth seems a whisper around my mouth.
And my spirit rises against this-
my soul can only cry YESHUA
and hands want nothing but to feed.

Fingertips are electric,
everything pricked in tension,
twisting out of my fears
until there is freedom.

Freedom, freedom,
oh my Yeshua I want to bandage your bride
and nurse her wounds.

I want to pull her from the
twisted paths
and rest with her in your presence.

Truth has burst forth,
I could not contain it.
Justice is on my hands- for you are on my heart.

Yeshua be near
I am not worthy.