worshipping


I will worship the Father that made me.
I will worship the maker of light.
I will bow before the Great Spirit.
I will lay down my life.

And with my heart placed upon
Your alter of mourning
And with my arms bound behind
My back is breaking
And with my head in the noose
of your love
I'll hang myself high
So the fools will think
that I'm wise

I willingly wreck my ego-casts.
I drool incense on your feet.
You spit in my eyes and call me well.
You cleanse me Lord.

And I thought I was the fool.
But you are a fool for me.


Copyright 2003 by pauly hart