When sin is all there ever seems to be,
A dirty blood polluting all my deeds,
I'm comforted by what You want from me—
To fling myself on You in all my needs.
Though I feel like I don't know what to do,
Uncertain and alone, I know one thing—
A Surety still stands, a Savior, You.
With each note of my sin, still Mercy sings.
I know I'll dance my whole life to this sound.
As bright'ning January tree limbs yawn,
Like peach trees, pink-limbed, reach from snowy ground,
My heart here beats and flushes for that dawn—
The everlasting glories of Your grace
And the blood-stained beauteous sunrise of Your face.