I sing for joy
In my remorse
A well within prosperity’s curse
That drowns the mighty oak of pride
But feeds the root of God inside.
In You
I find my rest
In You
I find my death
In You
I find my all
and my emptiness
Somehow it all makes sense!
In You I’m rich
When I’ve been made poor.
Comfort found when I mourn.
The prideful one You see from afar
Drawing near to low, broken hearts.
In You
I find my rest
In You
I find my death
In You
I find my all and my emptiness
Somehow it all makes sense
In You
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