Written by Chaka PX

Little believes ruin faith,

Glory in the moment,

Speak of the right praise,

We bow to recall our maker.

In silence, in humble pace,

The right time and tune,

We cry with tears not voice,

Listen to our call.

Bow low, ashes heap,

Sack clothes, turn grieves,

Who is listening, our knees hurt,

How do we praise right, be kind to our request.

Lift up head oh ye gate, for the king of Glory may enter, who is that king of Glory, the Lord Almighty is the King of Glory.



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