People of the living God where can you be found?
I have sought to hear your tale, while sin and sorrow bound.
And Oh, take me to your rest
And Oh, lead me to Him lest, I falter
Lonely I’ll no longer roam, like cloud like wind like wave
Where He dwells shall be my home, His death shall be my grave
And Oh, my empty soul’s no more
And Oh, my idle heart on wings shall be forever
And Oh, thy grace like waterfalls,
And All, my faults have been made yours!
And Oh, thy name upon my head
And Oh, thy heartbeat in my chest
And Oh, thy words upon my lips
And Oh, Thy love, my fingertips.
I will take thy yoke of choice come poverty, come cross
Tell me not of earthly gain, speak not of earthly loss,
No! When I have been made free!
He wears the sin that once clothed me!
Earth can fill my soul no more,
Like God, the one that I adore.
By: Preson Phillips
