When morning surrenders, I’m there again,
Calling and bawling, I pour my pain!
Before the sun, I rise and complain,
Cries in my eyes, gall in my vein!
But I abide where strings play a song,
I tarry in labour as I’m moving along.
I’m not strong, yet till mercy responds,
I collide with a virtue that bonds.
Tears as flood at heaven’s door,
Till it rains, mercy drill my shore
I wait the more, committed in praise,
Touched to the core, I lament for my days!
Still hope abides and alights and awakes,
He pampers wounds and comforts aches.
Yet I bawl when I pain,
And I’m at His mercy seat again!