I wanna make Something beautiful For you and from you To show you To show you I adore you Oh you And your journey Toward me Which I see And I see All you push through Mad for you And because of you I couldn't thank you in ten thousand years If I cried ten thousand rivers of tears Ah, but you know the soul And you know what make it gold You give life through blood. Oh I wanna make something So lovely for you 'Cos I promised that's what I'd do for you With the Bible I stole I know you forgave my soul because Such was my need on a Chronic Christmas Eve And I think we're agreed That it should have been free And you sang to me They dress the wounds of my poor people As thought they're nothing Saying, "Peace, peace" When there's no peace. They dress the wounds of my poor people As thought they're nothing Saying, "Peace, peace" When there's no peace. Days without number. Days without number. Now can a bride forget her j**els? Or a maid her ornaments? Yet my people forgotten me. Days without number. Days without number. And in their want Oh in their want And in their want Who'll dress their wounds? Who'll dress their wounds?