Least of These
Redemption's Echo: Embracing the Brokenness in Todd Agnew's 'Least of These'
Lyrics
I'm a druggie, I'm a pusher, I'm a one night stand whore
I acknowledge and admit to engaging in drug use, pushing drugs, and participating in one-night stands.
Accuser, an abuser with nothing to live for
I am someone who accuses and abuses others, feeling a lack of purpose or meaning in life.
A devil, a deceiver and probably much more
I identify with the qualities of a devil and a deceiver, possibly recognizing additional negative traits in myself.
But why does it have to define me?
I question why my past actions have to define who I am.
Why do you always remind me?
I question why others consistently remind me of my past mistakes.
Why can't I be free from who I've been?
I desire freedom from the person I used to be.
Why can't you see me as one of the least of these?
I ask others to see me with compassion, considering myself as one of the "least of these," implying a plea for understanding and acceptance.
I'm a liar, I'm a thief, I'm a traitor, I'm the chief of sinners
I confess to being a liar, thief, traitor, and considering myself the worst among sinners.
I'm pretty sure that nothing's beneath me
I express a lack of humility, believing that nothing is beneath me.
I'm a cheater, I'm a chain, I don't know if I can change
I admit to being a cheater and feeling chained, unsure if I can change.
But why does it have to define me?
I continue to question why my past actions define my identity.
Why do you always remind me?
I wonder why others persistently remind me of my past mistakes.
Why can't I be free from who I've been?
I express the desire to break free from my past self.
Why can't you see me as one of the least of these?
I repeat the plea for others to see me with compassion and view me as one of the "least of these."
Why does this have to define me?
I question the continued impact of my past on my present identity.
If He came to this hell to find me?
I ponder the significance of a divine figure coming to find and save me from my struggles.
Why can't this blood refine me?
I question why the metaphorical blood (possibly representing sacrifice or redemption) cannot refine and transform me.
Why do you always remind me?
I question the persistent reminders of my past actions by others.
Why can't I be free from who I've been?
I reiterate the desire for freedom from my past self.
Why can't you see me as one of the least of these?
I repeat the plea for others to see me with compassion and consider me as one of the "least of these."
Why can't you see me as one of the least of these?
I again emphasize the plea to be seen and accepted as one of the "least of these."
Comment