Kill Me Heal Me

Skillet's "Kill Me Heal Me" turns the language of surgery and resuscitation into a prayer about dying to self. The opening lines ask to have bones broken and reset, piece by piece, and the chorus repeats a blunt paradox — kill me, heal me — as if the two verbs were a single breath. The song links that surrender to the cross with the line about picking up the cross because it's killing time, and later the singer finds the courage to pick up the nails. There's a strange relief in the pain here, described as a release rather than something to escape. The second verse shifts to images of breath and blood: love that is ferocious, filling the lungs, electricity that resuscitates, peace that gives wings to fear. The repeated admission that "I can't live without it" anchors the whole thing in dependence rather than mere suffering. It's a raw, physical picture of sanctification — the old self broken down so something new can breathe — and it ends not with resolution but with the same plea, on and on.