Oh Lord won't You win this nation,
Oh Lord, Wont you save these people!
And today
is Salvation Day.
You call all people
by Your grace.
You want to turn them
to your face.
Oh Lord won't You win this nation,
Oh Lord, Wont you save these people!
What You need
is not some new strategy,
You just take ordinary people
like her and me
and You use them
in Your simplicity.
Oh Lord won't You win this nation,
Oh Lord, Wont you save these people!
Now you run for the bus:
climb on.
And you smile
at a person you don't know
and drive on.
But today, if you hear His voice,
don't harden your heart.
Now you're out in the street:
walk on.
And you're reading
the advertisements:
read on.
But today, if you hear His voice,
don't harden your heart.
And a busker plays and taps his feet:
sweet song.
But a reminder
of what you want to forget so:
move on.
But today, if you hear His voice,
don't harden your heart.
Because there's one
Who waits,
Who loves,
Who calls
And there's One,
Who died
to save your life.
And is there life richer than this?
Think on.
And if there a place
of real peace?
think on.
But today, if you hear His voice,
don't harden your heart.
Train:
rattles and sings,
sighs and bounces
across the edge of town.
Brakes:
squeal and whine,
purr and hiss
as we pull into the dirty station.
Things weigh heavy on my mind
as I think how times have changed.
Speakers:
coughs and splutters,
hums and crackles
as we move away.
But the I think of what you said to me-
"Come to me and I will give you rest"
Trees:
wave and flutter,
bend and rustle
as we rush by.
It's the whining of the brakes
that disturbs my sleep
as the old train grinds
into the midnight station.
It's to the whining of the brakes
that I move back the curtains
to peer outside.
When the side of my hand
I rub clean the steamy window
and watch
as the sleepy lights move round.
A grey rain-coated figure
leans against the dirty carriage
and he blocks out
half my view.
He re-lights a stubbed cigarette
and tightens his face
as he suck in
I close my eyes
and I think of the sunshine.
I dream of the hills.
I think of the long tall dry grass;
and of lighting a fire
as the sun goes down.
A train rattles past
in the opposite direction
and the lights send shadows
gliding across my face.
There's a shouting on the platform;
There's a slapping of wet footsteps;
There's a crashing of doors...
... and we clunk and grind out of the station.
The moonlit towns-
they look peaceful tonight.
they've been washed
by the retreating rain.
But I close my eyes
and I dream:
of those warm summer walks,
and those warm summer talks,
and of...
...of your company.
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