Wednesday, July 05, 2006


On the nick of time
Throwing what i thought was mine
In a world where mimes abound
Inside this imaginary box, im bound

Playing around, missing the point
soon to be afraid on the corner sitting coiled
in gloom, in the cold, alone and burrowed
holding the borrowed time like its ours

easily budged by strong currents that flows
and to be built like a tree grows
deeply rooted on love and faith, I arose
the damned, the Savior, the saved

the clouds shroud, the rain poured
one tiny spot He cant take on the “formed”
He cries, He delights, with blood He mourned
to have me back in his arms, that I was told

long, long before, young and careless
thats true, I couldnt care less…
what He did I took for granted
Not even seeing to Him ill be grounded

Humble as I stumble
with my toungue thats ready to grumble
the tool of my falls and fumbles
but He began and promised to push through

oh what love could that be
that saved a sinner like me
what love could that be
that not even i cant see

what love could this be…
that the Lord portrayed in me

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