Another day begins and I begin the mourning
Look in the mirror wonder, what I'm trying for
Lately the mirror's giving me some early warnings
Can I make it out the door
Close my eyes and move quickly down the hallway
Don't really want to see my picture on the wall
I pick a feature could be working on it all day
But it wouldn't change at all
So I think of this before I fall
Chorus
I'm made, with my Father's hands
I'm made, with His breath of life
I'm, fearfully, wonderfully made
Through the window comes the warm Atlanta sunshine
And I'm encouraged to think on a different thing
The hand that lit the light that brightens up the skyline
Turned clay into a king
So let the mirror hear me sing
Chorus
I'll comb my hair a different way
Maybe on a better day
I could turn a head or two
But I'm being manipulated here and only one opinion's clear
And from His point of view
With my Father's hands I'm made
With His, breathe of life
I'm made, with my Father's hands
I'm made, with His breath of life
I'm, fearfully, wonderfully
Fearfully, wonderfully
Fearfully, wonderfully made