What are we worth, but the grace that we are given
grace cant stop the dirt that we all live in
we all still see the dirt on the forgiven
I dream in color, you call it chaos. I breath the fire of the one who made us. my body's broken, am i just a shell? failure frames fictitious names
oh, but its the flame, that makes the candle glow
give me the fire, that melts the snow
spread your arms friend, let the branches grow
pour from my chest, like the rivers flow
what is it thats troubling you my dear, something internal that you have come to fear? but its been shown to you so clearly
its his kiss that makes you shiver, and his touch that makes your insides quiver, for the rush that only cold nights deliver
after hour upon hour, of the drums in your neck, beating at your mouth until it makes you sick, leaving a used up shadow of a wreck
with a body thats all but complete from night after night of their lustful deceit, where is the One who can turn this cycle off repeat?
so calm the burning inflamation, demanding no further explanation
Jesus make us new creations