Desperate Times Calling

To God I made a promise That I would clean and polish my act. No more Doubting Thomas; I'll become His faithful acrobat. Dance on the head of a pin; Dodge the diamond bullet temptation If He'll wash away my sins, And ask for no remuneration. And to Saint Peter I vowed That, if he'd throw open the gate, I'll be humbled, not so proud Stop dancing in circles, and just walk straight. I'll take the time to confess The wickedness etched into my face. I'll tell the truth, more or less; Sometimes lies are told with better grace. I am making a compact With every Archangel above, That I will treat them as fact, As long as they promise not to judge. A covenant, just in case, To absolve all the deeds I have done; The mistakes time will erase, And the misdeeds that are yet to come.