Woorden: Thrice. Identity Crisis. Torch to End All Torches.

Misguided satellite I circle by habit
Can't find my orbit to save my life
I want to fall, I want to burn
Like an ignorant crater less meteorite

Long ago I was derailed, long ago the mission failed
But in the distance there appears a light

Disgruntled architect building a palace
Can't make it perfect to save my life
Victim less crime ride the wrecking ball in
Evacuate now while I breathe dynamite

Efforts all to no avail, I'm perfections countervail
I'm torn in pieces, I'm made in contrite

And in my darkest hour
The brightest light draws near to me
A torch to end all torches
This is the light that sets me free

All shadows burn away now
But by his grace I am sustained
Though all was lost
Now all is found and more is gained

Lift me up
Make me whole

Lift me up and make me whole
Instill in me a new hope
Breathe new life into my soul