Songtext von Glorious Disgrace

You don't need my songs; You see through my Sunday best You don't need my works to compliment Your righteousness You don't need my words; my poetry does not impress You, God You don't my faith; You still move despite my doubt You don't need my voice; the rocks and trees are crying out You don't need my love; that's not what Your death's all about, O God It's hard to face this But when I see Your face, I see what grace is It's such a glorious disgrace That You would condescend to love me You would condescend to love me When You're the Author of all the good I've ever done And all I offer is borrowed breath from borrowed lungs But You still condescend to love me You still condescend to love me Without your breath in my lungs Without Your words on my tongue Without Your voice speaking all things Without Your blood in my heart Without Your cross as my mark Without Your love in the offering Without Your breath in my lungs Without Your words on my tongue Without Your voice I could not sing Without Your blood in my heart Without Your cross as my mark Without Your love, I am nothing