Saturday, May 12, 2012

Where Words Fail

By Mark Bishop

All I have to offer you is less than I can bare
how can I ever hope to match your gift beyond compare

If I righted all the wrongs I've done and set the captives free
still I would need you to die for me

For what can be given to the Lord above all things?
What song can be sung to him who gave me notes to sing?
If the sky were painted over with the vic'tries of our king

Oh the half would not be told
though the sun blot out and earth grow cold
no the half would not be told
What praises can I bring?

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