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What is it, Lord
What is it I've been hiding?
What is it I'm so afraid to look at?
Why can't I get myself to look at it?
It's hurting me and I'm tired of it
I don't like it, it's stupid and mean
I hate it, I don't want it
I'm tired of lugging it around
I'm tired of putting up with its crap
It's time for it to go
I feel it coming
Whatever it takes, Lord
Whether me or a memory
Or an unwanted guest
It has to go
And I praise you
For I know it will
I know, for you will it
And I am willing
How faithfully you guard over your word
How jealously you guard your name
How generously you love my soul

Stephen Pursell,
original: 12/12/02, revised: 9/10/14