He in the age of power
I'm calling out from weakness
Far from your heart, and yet
You're not too far to reach us
Carried us when our legs broken
Bodies and the wind knocked out from our lungs
And yet we have the gall to cry for Barrabbás
Then turn our eyes, the turn our ears
Sorry to grieve You, God
Sorry to grieve You, God
Here in the age of grace
Did we forget forgiveness?
Don't let us trade the Cross
For temples made of comfort
Carried us in open arms bound and broken
Body and the wind knocked out from your lungs
And yet You had the will to cry out: Forgive them
Then close your eyes
And wipe our tears
How could I thank you, God?
Good grief, Your love for us
Fearless and fierce
For all of death's grievances
The wager's been cleared
Nothing could stop You
Then and now here
And nothing I do can undo what You did
So I'm done with the running
I'm done with these chains