They say...
Your love comes in and desplaces the fear
The weight on my chest gets traded for gold charms
And the maze in my head becomes a garden of life
You place a trumpet and music box in my throat
And massage oil into my dry and weary heart
But all these illustrations
Can't replace a real encounter
Have I even had one of those?
I'm tired of living in my mind
Trying to figure it all out
What your're saying
And what you're not
What you want me to do
And where you'd like me to go
A sick guessing game which some call "faith"
I'm tired of insulting you
Take me from the swirling cloud of my thoughts
Bury me in simplicity
In Truth
Strip away the cellophane
Wrap me in you
I need to hear you once again
Brush back my hair and lean in close
How do I please you, my King?
No comments:
Post a Comment