This Line, Sinners

Of sinners, I am great.
My vanity has staked her claim.
In the night, I hear my name
being called. In the night.
A sound not peaceful to my sleep.
A price not pretty.
A mind left in fragments.
A heart lost in fog.
A soul washed ashore.

Am I being cleansed?
Am I being drowned?
Time will tell. Time will tell.
Time is telling.
. . . and it's telling me now that it has arrived
to claim my youth,
to claim my vanity.
It's time.