My Hope is Hard to Kill

KB turns the phrase "my hope is hard to kill" into a defiant refrain, repeated like a heartbeat through a track built on survival rather than easy triumph. The opening verse sets the scene: enemies who want to drag him by the feet and break his soul, yet every time he hits his knees he hears a voice — prayer becomes the hinge between attack and endurance. From there the lyrics get specific about the damage: a world carried on bruised shoulders, demons on his back, nights with no food and no heat, a life once "lined in that chalk" that seemed to promise nothing beyond the present. What keeps him intact is not willpower but Christ holding him together, a faith that never failed even when the world did. The valley imagery is deliberate, and so is the geography of the second verse, which relocates the Southside to Nazareth and calls the overlooked Lazarus, insisting that God shows up among the fatherless and the stepped-around. There is a striking line where God answers the question about prolonged pain — not with relief, but with the explanation that the climb is meant to change him. The song ends where it began, with the same threats and the same unkillable hope, now sounding less like a claim and more like a settled fact.