MMCM - The Apologist

MMCM - The Apologist You have to understand the pressure You have to understand the scale A church this size has many rooms And many things can fail There are systems There are layers There are people I don't know There are stories built from fragments There are places Truth won't go There is context There is always context There is always Something more How much truth Can a good thing survive? How many wounds Before mercy becomes a lie? How many bodies Can we bury beneath What we built Before the building Is the grave? The photographs are incomplete The messages lack tone The money looks much worse When every number stands alone The girl had problems long before this Everybody knew And grief can make a mother Need a villain To accuse There is context There is always context There is always Something more How much truth Can a good thing survive? How many wounds Before mercy becomes a lie? How many bodies Can we bury beneath What we built Before the building Is the grave? We fed the hungry Built the shelters Sent the medicine overseas We gave children beds And winter coats Surely something good Still means Something Surely all the lives we helped Can weigh against the rest Surely grace is more than counting Every hand Around a neck There must be balance There must be balance There must be Something On the other side Then came another name Another date Another room Another mother Another settlement Another file Another body Another silence Another prayer Another phrase We had prepared Misunderstood Misremembered Misrepresented Taken out of context Misquoted Misled Mistaken Mis Her mother says She begged us The records say We knew The diary says She blamed herself For what we let him do And every word I used To make the horror sound uncertain Now sounds like A door I helped To close How much truth Can a good thing survive? How many wounds Before mercy becomes a lie? How many bodies Can we bury beneath What we built Before the building Is the grave? I defended the mission I defended the future I defended the school I defended the giving I defended the numbers I defended the name The name The name The name Until the name Was all that remained There is context There is always There is There How much truth Can a good thing survive? How many wounds Before mercy becomes the lie? How many bodies Did we bury beneath What we built Before the building Became The grave? What if I never defended God? What if God Was never The thing Under attack? What if all I ever guarded Was the door That kept the truth Outside?