SONG: Manna From Heaven
 
I have a picture of you, it's mine to keep
I look to your strengths whenever I'm weak
I've been needed, so neededˆ I'm under a strain
But you reach out and slap me from under the frame

So yeah, yeah I believe, I believe
With tricks like that coming out of your sleeve
You're Manna from Heaven I'm ready to receive
Been dead from the neck up and down on my knees
So please, please I'll follow your lead
It's up on the tarmac I'll gladly conceive
You're Manna from heaven I'm ready to receive
Been dead from the neck up and down on my knees

I've been too long out on a limb
It's been too long, sick of listening to him
My whole life, you lay down your law
Swapping sins for hymns for sims
Don't wanna hear it no more

We've got values 



SONG: Let's Hope I Get it Right this Time

I'm slicing up needless pieces of my life
The cutting releases a feeling that must be right
So I am a victim, a victim of hindsight
By the corner of my mouth you will know that I'm all right

Shocked by the gall that it takes to be so wise
It's high time that you showed me yours,
I showed you mine for the very last time
Let's hope I get it right this time!

The more I held back on the swelling of my pride
The less I was feeling a man that was some right
But I can not wait for the blessings of merit
As for the measure oft cast on my soul, I discredit

Now you're giving to fresh by your own life
If I drop to my knees this late in the day,
Who am I saved by?

Shocked by the gall that it takes to be so wise
It's high time that you showed me yours,
I showed you mine for the very last time
Let's hope I get it 
Let's hope I get it 
Let's hope I get it right this time!



SONG: Amongst Old Reliables

If I walk through you, like you just walked through me,
The bearing of souls would be unnecessary
If I looked at you like the ones you throw me
You'd file them away to hold against me

Enough is enough, it's never too much
The life of the confessor is no open book
Enough is enough, but it's never too much
The life of the confessor is no open book
No, the life of the confessor is noˆ
I'd hate to find you amongst the old reliables

The mark of success that we share more or less
Makes it harder to take and our faces turn sour
The times that we talk, and the line we don't walk
You're just about the fastest way to spend an hour

You never let on, I can't read your mind
You must have seen me through far and in better times
I didn't push it, cause I knew it would come apart
I know that I blew it, but admitting is a kind of start

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