Lord, let me see the sun rise again
Lead me to fields with abundant grain
I know that I have not sown, but
To the fields owner I am a son
Lead me to lands with abundant rain
Where all the fruit trees are grown
Ready to be smothered by my tongue
Lead me to a life without this pain.
I have had enough of your plan
To make me work for these things
For I only need them as you need me
Maybe not me, undivine, but us
We satisfy a certain whim of yours
Your word denies this of course.
Still the only salt that makes sauce.
Even still I hear those trusted lines
It is my understanding that is short
I need be careful or to hell my soul in line
No one asked for any of this. Still,
We are threatened by your rage but
Must be grateful for your mercy
Must marvel at your lack of age
Everything to you we trace it
For those good works we sing praises, but
I have done enough. It’s your turn, praise me.
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