There was a sound, a war cry about to go out--
one that all the people were gathered around with icy fingers to hear.
The promise of a life, and full suit,
The bits and pieces had been arranged.
And whispers year by year, the name...
of the one they feared.
And the walls are too high!
Who will let us in...
and our clothes too thin--
the base too deep,
the times too hard.
And they're waiting.
They're waiting within.
With warm feet, chords...and winning.
'Till He steps in.
This cry was waiting to be heard--
existed before fight and word.
And here with blistered fingers, tired feet and moans,
We've begun to turn and topple stones.
Crazy, hungry eyes, determined.
Every battlement is learning He is the Lord.
(Based on Isaiah 42: 13)
Jehovah as a mighty one goeth forth. As a man of war He stirreth up zeal, He crieth, yea, He shrieketh, Against His enemies He showeth Himself mighty. (Youngs Literal Translation)