O Lord, I have made you a place in my heart
Among the rags and the bones and the dirt.
There's piles of lies and averted eyes and
Old moving boxes full of hurt.
I've tried to clean up the place, I know its a discrace,
You get used to it after a while-
With the flood and the drought and old pals hanging out
with there IOU's and their smiles.
O Lord, why does the fall get colder each year?
And why can't I learn to love?
Lord, If you made me than its easy to see
that you all make mistakes up above.
1 year ago