The Chorus

Outstretch your hands

Receive redemption

Your name does not change

The music that plays

Silenced in haste

And a lone voice sounds:

"I am the truest self

I am the truest self

I am the truest self

I am the truest self

I am the truest self

I am the truest self

I am the truest self

I am the truest self"

You can't get rid of me

Bowed head in slapping waves

Green glimmers through salt sting

Knowing nothing but the need not to breathe

And what have you achieved?

What does your death mean?

Is your art improved?

Will your sex be missed?

Can you answer these

Before you're knocked back by the waves

And the pain recedes

And the ledge you cling onto narrows

Narrows

We accept our loss

We accept our loss

We accept our loss

We accept our loss

Cut off our hands

Cut off our hands

Cut off our hands

Cut off our hands

Immortal

Invisible

God only wise

In light accessible

Hid from our eyes

Most blessed

Most glorious

The ancient of days

Almighty

Victorious

You knew what you were about

When you created me

We accept our loss

Our loss

Cut off our hands

Cut off our hands

Cut off our hands

Cut off our hands

Cut off our hands

Cut off our hands

No shock

In unison

We accept our loss

Cut off our hands