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Album: Wrath
Into the hovels of the poor,
into the dens of earthly mite.
Into the the streets of dark where homeless groan, God speaks.
Because the mighty stand so straight.
Flattering tongues and secret hate.
Because the Godly ones are absent, God will speak.
Because the mother lost her child.
Because the elder lost his way.
Both have lost a future, once alive and now laid waste.
For the man who's head is clear
just long enough to get a drink.
For the orphan knowing not from where he speaks.
I come alive. Grace has won me over.
As hope survives, my soul has found it's lover.
A love collides as He becomes my sufferer,
and am I yet alive!
To the hopeless we bring stories of a man who conquered death.
To the lost we bring the way and light your path.
To the wealthy we bring freedom from the life that's spent in waste.
There is rest to find among a world of haste.
I come alive. Grace has won me over.
As hope survives, my soul has found it's lover.
A love collides, as He becomes my sufferer,
and am I yet alive!
If we will not hear, then take our hearing.
If we don't see, then take our eyes.
May Your wrath be swift to conquer,
purging death if'er it thrives.
And if our dullness ever growing, will not give way, embracing lies,
then take our lives... take our lives...
I come alive. Grace has won me over.
As hope survives, my soul has found it's lover.
A love collides, as He becomes my sufferer,
and am I yet alive!
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