Untitled.

The Son that should have been

What should sin be to me?
It is dead, dead, all dead
Its malignant hate off me
Breaking terror no longer master
What should sin be, but death?

Then, why should sin creep back in
Seduce me right back in
To give wrath and guilt?
That with my own hand
I drink this cup
That should never have been drunk
That I should pour judgment upon me
To ruin the righteous clothes
That covers my shame

That I should cut away the only love
And love that would never love me
With a blink of an eye
I betray those who would give me hope
And rush to those who would hate
How does my soul reason
That I should return
To what I mustn’t

Day by day,
I walk alone
Trying to get rid of it all
Trying to be a hero
Trying to be a dream
I flee from the refuge
Too proud of myself
Then why should God send His cavalry?
To outpace even the wind,
His people come to me
On His beckoning, I’m returned
In a flash, I’m back
In His kingdom’s courts

I’m broken and tired
Under the rags, lies a tire soul
Should I flee from a kingdom who heals
Of this sin that should steal me away
What must I do?

To read His letter to me
And have heart again
Because I never was alone
And my heart’s not my own
But stamped with His love
I’m under Him
Part of His protectorate
What is sin to me
When grace should be fighting for me?

For when Christ entered the court
And plead for me
Delivered me
To grant upon me
The pardon of eternity,
His love created the greatest uproar
And He, the Lion,
The fiercest of all
Strode upon the filthy earth
Through pain and toil
To return me back home
Buying my bail
And breaking my chains
To make me a son
I should have been