A Banquet for Traitors

Again, I wake to you... Stand up, these feet are so far from clean.
I'm undeserving of the strength in your arms used to save me.
But years passed when I saw Eve next to me,
she's wrapped in low-cut, dripping sensuality.
I remember the host, but it's been so long since we spoke.
He said, "My son, you can hold perfection in your arms if you wish."
but I sit at a banquet for traitors
placed here between a thief and a liar.
"Just run and hold perfection in your arms as I slip..."
but I'll make you the god of a liar
cause I've been both a saint and a viper.
I'll make you the god of a liar.
I am a lie, just like these traitors that cry for forgiving replies
but keep their grips held tight.
Though my eye's on Eve you're ready to bleed as if I'm royalty
but I am no king. I am no king.
His life spilled like a tide so divine.
It was a blood soaked feast that never ceased as his veins dripped empty.
With such violent grace, the waves hit my face
and in painful clarity I turned fearfully...
"What makes you think you can deserve me?
WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN DESERVE ME?"
My host fell to His knees as paling lips pushed His plea...
"My son, you can hold perfection in your arms if you wish."
but I sit at a banquet for traitors, placed here between a thief and a liar.
"Just run and hold perfection in your arms as I slip..."
but I'll make you the god of a liar
cause I've been both a saint and a viper.
By grace uneven, at the banquet portrayed, through death, this life is saved.
But I am no king! I am no...
"Open your eyes, child, your sea is changing"