Lost and aimless, sad-eyed girl
Do you see what you've become?
All minor keys to write your melody,
But your song is left unsung.
You have put your pen to page
To start a story that has begun.
You mount your steed and draw your sword
For a battle that's been won.
Wild and weary, wayward daughter,
So much love to give away.
The pleasure's fleeting, the scars are lasting.
You will never find love that way.
Your greatest gift is not your body,
What can be felt in a darkened room,
No, daughter dear, its simply this:
You're a bride who needs her Groom.
Bruised and beaten, angry wife.
Its hard to trust through all the lies,
Hard to see love when it hurts you,
Hard to see much through swollen eyes.
He left you wounded, left you scarred.
You think you are better off alone.
But there is One who knows your pain.
He has a few scars of His own.
Lost and weary, bruised and beaten,
This is not your badge of honor.
Beauty, lovely, precious, wanted
That is the mantle of the Father.
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