Every Morning
My eyelids rise again,
Like the Lord on Easter Sunday,
But a stony silence weighs upon my heart.
The sunrise coming in
Through the window of a new day
Fails to find the valley of my dark.
Sometimes when I wake up I am
Not so sure that I want to be
Dragged into this world of pain again.
I wish that I could just roll over,
Turn my back on consequences
Of a world that’s soaking in its sin . . . its sin.
Chorus:
But even in the valley, You lead me to the pasture,
A stream running with laughter.
For You are here beside me,
To humble and to guide me,
And suddenly my eyes can see:
I will awake in my Daddy’s house
Every morning . . . every morning.
Darkness falls again,
As regular as evening;
I’m feeling like the victim of a curse.
The room begins to spin,
As I find myself believing
That the evil in my life can’t be reversed.
Sometimes in the middle of the
Day the bottom falls out of my
Soul and I am crying once again.
When all of the bad things happen,
Is there any explanation?
I can’t make it fit inside my head . . . my head.
CHORUS