Strike a match and set my soul on fire
I fear the Lord,
not the snare, with their
threats to stab three knives into my heart
Bearer of the iron-sword
You alone are worthy
Engrave your truths into my skin
A fool's art seduced me
for far too long
Set me ablaze
Fire, o'freedom
My tongue will lick these flames
To burn anew for You
Rouse the lies aslumber in my bed
Beneath my feet, Your light to
Expose the wickedness of men
With their poisoned lips
Penetrate joints and marrow
Even to dividing soul and spirit
Brand me with Your sovereignty and goodness
again
For Your word is sharper than the ink of men
(Heb 4:12)
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