Beauty

Eternity, piled up and poured out and looking like sunlight,
Carelessly spilling in gracious excess through the air
From the cut blades of grass to the desolate rock on the mountain
Serendipitous Providence, flowing, with Glory to spare

CHORUS:
On the tip of my tongue there are angels,
With their wings pulling forward to fly
And they dance as they celebrate grace
And the size of the sky, the size of the sky