In the lives of those who follow, there's going to come a time when rhythm
starts to stumble, when sing-song swallows rhyme, when imaginations crumble,
false foundations turn to dust, towers fall to piles of stones and girders
into rust.
Do you let the blood of Jesus wash the rubble from your mind, and your eyes again
can see the one you've almost left behind, when theology's in tatters and reason is
absurd?
Still your soul in silence, listen for his word.
So many turns, so many ways, so many voices cry, standing at the crossroads
watching time go flashing by.
Indecision paralyzes, it's the fear of choosing wrong, but waiting is a step
itself and you're wandering too long.
So again you search the scriptures, and again you ask your friends,
but last of all, the one who's known the beginning from the end, in the clamor and
confusion and the blindness of your choice.
Still your soul in silence, listen for his voice.
Rome is full of ruins, Babylon is gone, the temple's just a memory that some still
dwell upon.
But deep within a place that sword and veil had once denied, a tree of life is
growing, living waters flow beside.
Far beyond all human reason, in words upon a page, his glory lightens all who fret
their hour upon this stage.
To know him is our freedom, to hear him is release, to fix your heart and soul on him
is rest and perfect peace.
Far beyond all human reason, in words upon a page, his glory lightens all who fret
their hour upon this stage.
To know him is our freedom, to hear him is release, to fix your heart and soul on him
is rest and perfect peace.