If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy, I can only conclude that I was not made for here If the flesh that I fight is at best only light and momentary, then of course I'll feel nude when to where I'm destined I'm compared
Speak to me in the light of the dawn Mercy comes with the morning I will sigh and with all creation groan as I wait for hope to come for me
Am I lost or just less found? On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way? is this a soul that stirs in me, is it breaking free, wanting to come alive? Cos my comfort would prefer for me to be numb And avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become
For we, we are not long here Our time is but a breath, so we better breathe it And I, I was made to live, I was made to love, I was made to know you Hope is coming for me Hope, He's coming
