He had good intentions of goin’ to church…woke up early on Sunday and read from the Bible…story of Cain killin’ Able…lyin’ to God ’bout it…bein’marked for the rest of your days…walkin’ ’round earth with a target on your back…He thought ’bout that…

Hadn’t been to church in a long time…used to sit in the pews next to his momma when he was a little boy…watched as communion was passed…people breakin’ off bits of cracker and drinkin’ grape juice…do this in rememberance of me…thought ’bout that too…

And the singin’…all the singin’ that took place…singin’ without instruments…just voices cryin’ out…some louder than others…he never sang…was scared to…would stand there in silence…thinkin’ thoughts a million miles away…wonederin’ if his soul was saved…always wondered…

He was baptized when he was younger…had a hard time believin’…had a hard time havin’ faith in the invisible…and all that sin…all that sin he carried ’round…got to thinkin’ that maybe he was marked by God too…spent his days in fear of havin’ no fear…that was his greatest sin…

The man had good intentions of goin’ to church…just never quite got ’round to it…somethin’ held him back…maybe he was tired of lyin’ to God…