I beheld your sacrifice; The transgressors, not them but me. And I wept, Was grieved, Because of sinful selfish pride. They kept not your faith, Thy word, a sharp two-edged sword, piercing.
Plead my cause, for I have no one else, And deliver me from all my diseases. Quicken me from my everlasting deadness, According to your way, not mine. Thy word is good medicine.
Mine eyes fail to see any light, Prevent the darkness from overwhelming me. Night watches are my daily experience, That I might find hope in shadows; Might meditate in your goodness, and Thy word might revive a cold, dark soul.
I prevented myself from success, honest. The dawning of everyday is filled with potential, The morning, and afternoon melt my resolve Cried to the Lord to hear, honest. I hoped in his mercy, Thy word fills me with meekness.