I’m the child of a priest who grew up in a home of hate
With a mama lacking no horrible thing to say
Until I realised that mere shit was to be my fate
Then pops said all the time I am gay

I sit on the custody bench like all other thugs
Looking down at my shoes thinking of the past
I remember granny’s lovely kisses and warm hugs
And her final words saying that my sins won’t last

Wondering to myself what that old potato bag meant
Readily moving next in line to my allocated jail cell
I kind of wrote down my sins, and they diffused away, like a vague scent
God then removed me from that rust-filled hell

Today I have my story recorded on tape
Lest you cry here’s some tissue to ease the pain
Yes, I was a criminal convicted of rape
Thank God that I am a sinner with faith