Shunned At A Funeral — Crooked Stick (Unplugged Version)

I'VE WALKED THROUGH DOORS I SHOULD HAVE
CLOSED and carried weights
I never chose.
I've choked on pride.
I bled regret.
I've run from grace and called
It death.
But every scar he didn't waste.
Each broken path became his place.
He doesn't wait for saints to shine.
He works his will through flawed design
He draws a lot of straight lines
WITH AN
OH SO VERY CROOKED STICK.
Takes my
Twisted rusted soul and makes the mercy clay
I'm not the strength.
I'm not the source.
I'm just the one he dared to pick to show the world he still redeems
The crooked s
Oh yeah
I've missed the mark a thousand times
Traded truth for smoother lines.
But he's the flame that bends the ash.
The potter with the shattered glass.
He
Found a post where
I saw none and whispered, "Child, the work's not done
He doesn't wait for clean and new.
He
Carves his name and misused tools.
He
Draws a lot of straight lines with an oh
So very crooked stick.
Takes my twisted
Rusted soul and makes the mercy clear
I'm not the strength.
I'm not the source.
I'm just the one he dared to pick to show the world he still redeems
The crooked stick
So let them talk and let them stare.
MY
CRACKS JUST SHOW the craftsman's care
Not polish, not what you'd expect, but he gets glory through the rain
He draws A LOT OF STRAIGHT LINES WITH A
VERY very crooked stick.
TAKES MY
TWISTED RUSTED SOUL AND MAKES THE MERCY cLAY.
I'M NOT the strength.
I'm not the source.
I'm just the one he dared to pick to show the world he still redeems
The crooked stick
He draws a LOT OF STRAIGHT LINES WITH AN
OH SO VERY CROOKED STICK.
Takes my
Twisted rusted soul and makes the mercy claim.
I'm not the strength.
I'm not the source.
I'm just the one he dared to pick to show the world he still redeems
The crooked yeah