He washes me at top speed: 
He's the General Electric, 
When I lost me, He taught me
How the principle's neglected 

The end goal: win your
mental and spiritual connection
And ten toes on those insoles
Will make simple your direction 

One foot in front of the other
Like Passover, we're covered
Now cousins of every color
Are coming for His Comfort.

Like Comet in the cupboard
He's scrubbing the scuffs up
We knuck buck or bust blammers
But the buck's stuck on the Lamb's Blood.

It reveals my bad manners. 
A heel by McMahon's standards. 
If I lust or I fuss, 
I trust His justice and candor. 

He's in a league of His own, 
Batting my tears away. 
So whenever I strike out,
I can clearly proclaim: 

I NEED YOU TO PURIFY ME