Slow Sin

You are my blood
The object of my eye
You are my blood
The object of my eye

You are the same but different
The victim of a slower sin
(The object of my eye)
And I would trade it all to change it

You are acting like a brain-dead infant
Waiting in line for a chemical to fix it
(The object of my eye)
Acting like a sickle-cell child with a death wish
When you are light, you are time, you are endless