Gasoline

I feel like I've been injected with a hundred pounds of caffeine

And I lay sleepless through the night.

My thoughts are overwhelming this tired, one-track mind

On the edge of the bed, clinging tight.

I feel like I've been injected with a hundred pounds of gasoline,

But I have no engine to run it off.

It eats me through the night; this morning I am gone,

Entangled in the weight of every thought.

Oh Father, I am not a car and I am not a coffee pot

And I don't know what to do when my mind gets this hot.

So hold me in Your arms, though I'm sweating gasoline,

And please just lift these thoughts that keep haunting me.

I know that You're still holding on to me, too,

So I'm on the edge of the bed, clinging tight to You.