so, ive got nothing left
and if you so choose to practice the good art of approximation
i guess i am nothing
emptiness is strange
maybe this is my caricature of hell

all the nutters from the zoo
will bleed you dry and spit on you

till we have faces of our own
ones that hold together, by Your grace

oh to sing Your praise
to behold the wonder of Your face

there only seems to be silence left