A troubled man cryin’ awake in his bed;
A soul full of regrets for the life he has led.
A light fills his heart. What did he do?
One prayer to his maker, and he’s born anew.

The exalted among us will see their last day.
The humblest existence will end the same way.
This body of death has been born to revert
To dust of the earth, graves covered in dirt.

The lust of the flesh, the lure of power and might
No longer have meaning when your end’s in sight.
Awake from your nightmare, by Satan you’re led.
All he can offer is death deader than dead.

Love me Lord. Love me, oh Lord!
Love me Lord. Love me, oh Lord!

There’s hope of a life with no sickness and death.
This life overtakes you upon your last breath.
Poems of a heaven so beautifully penned
Pale next to the real deal of God’s love without end.

So do all for that hope as you live out this day.
Pray for his mercy as you make your way.
The steps that we walk in the places we see
Have all been determined ‘fore the world came to be.

Love me Lord. Love me Lord.
Love me Lord. Love me, oh Lord!

Make a joyful noise! Make a joyful noise!

All music and lyrics © Jeremiah Nighthawk Taylor, 2017