I ask you,
How many times will I fall?
Crashing with a thud
If there’s any hope for a wobble like me?
One who never stops wavering?
How many times will you pick me up?
And wash me cleaner than I was
I hear your voice,
Like the last chord on an array of notes
Cutting through the noise in my head
You tell me,
You’d never stopped loving me
No matter how much I fall
You’d tell me
I’ll never be too broken for you to fix
The Lord hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee.