Father, Father, take my hand
Lead me out of this dying land
A beautiful gift that you gave
Now nothing more than an open grave
Father, Father, guide my path
So I escape your holy wrath
Corrupted by my favorite sin
Cleaned by strips on your skin
Father, Father, give me rest
On all sides I am pressed
I feel run ragged to the bone
When You are life, alone
Father, Father, give me sight
To see the broken in the night
Those so consumed with fear and pain
Under the enemies deadly reign
Father, Father, send me out
Showing truth to those who doubt
Not my strength or my will done
But the Power of the Firstborn Son
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