How can I just coast along,
without knowing where I'm from,
who was here before I was,
like the Man who spilled His blood,
saved the world from certain doom,
yet He's ignored, cursed and shooed,
always being thrown aside,
all along I run and hide?
How could I be worthy of
the love of One from high above?
Of course as we all grow up,
we see the people run a muck.
They seem like lines upon a page,
with a glance they're all so vague.
Do you ever think: Where do they go?
Or wonder how the flowers grow?
Or how the sky can stay so blue,
when all things we do pollute?
With nothing to do time drips by,
as you have nothing to occupy.
But if you have a task at hand,
time just seems at an end.
So is it that our minds warp time?
Or do we have a clock inside,
with gears that flip our universe?
Oh come now! Don't be absurd!
How could that be possible?
If it's so, who is responsible?
I sit alone sometimes in bed,
with thoughts like these inside my head.
My clock rings out: "Tick Tock Tick",
and I wonder: What is this?
For by grace are ye saved through faith, that not of yourselves, lest any man should boast.