Song of the Heart

You’re restoring in me the joy of my salvation;

with your hand you mold me from the clay.

Just like you promised Abraham a great nation

you told David he’d be king someday.

I have seen many people pass me by

to take up arms or just to die —

and here I’ve been just sitting on my hands like Israel

worshiping the idols of this world.

Praise you — mighty and precious one

for conquering and taking the victories you’ve won.

It’s the kings duty to see to his subjects

and its up to your subject to do what needs done.

Oh champion of Man, maker of Heaven and Earth

through the conquering of this world — you gave us new birth.

In me you restore the love and hope

that had been barren like an ancient hearth

Praise to you — the one who molded me

the God who died to set me free —

On my hands was the blood of your crucifixion

yet still you freed me and washed my soul clean.