My dying world
Is crying for redemption
My tired world
Is running for protection from itself
My losing world
Is scrounging up ways to survive the ruin
My lying world
Is making up reasons to live without You

While You say, "Closer to me is where you really should be."
You say, "Closer to me is the way you are meant (were made) to be."

My shaken world
Buckles 'neath the pressure
My shapeless world
My soul, without a center
My drowning world
With nothing but seas without shores around me
My crumbling world
Is falling in pieces (brittle and boken) from being without You

While You say, "Closer to me is where you really should be."
You say, "Closer to me is the way you are meant (were made) to be."