When I slew my demons, they asked me,
“Who is like God? Tell me, do you know?”
I felt a little big and gutsy.
When I told my tale, oh, they measured,
“Man or angel? Power to let go?”
And I was wet from what I weathered.
My wounds were like coffee stains they sipped,
“Who is like God? He with no regret?”
Some shared, some you (p)refer to in crypt.
With the power within uncluttered;
My heart a nation, my strength my debt,
Clean, clean was my power recovered.