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| But have I special privilege By deed or by thought That I should be healed And my fellow man not? Or was there opportunity That he failed to grasp Where he could've been healed But he never asked? I ponder this thought all day and all night And I beg you dear Lord to receive my sight. It's never been perfect, And it's really not that bad But 20/40 vision, That's still pretty sad. And something else I might add It's my glasses you see They just seem to fit So uncomfortably And they keep falling off While I'm washing my car While I'm doing my laundry While harding my har. While guarding my guard, While standing my stand, While zithing my zither, While landing my land. The peoples point the finger And they say "tisk, tisk. You can't rhyme your words With ones that don't exist." But I tell them "Be silent, You shauvity shaws! For you people believe In Santa Claus." "Oh, but he's real!" They reply. "We saw him ourselves! Well, actually not really, But we think we saw his elves!" |
| To see, or not to see. That is the question. Whether it is noble in the mind to wear these hideous spectacles or to deny my right to sight except by night of course the horse may force my wayward thinking to the right or left or so it seems, I dare not dream to arouse the jealousy of these eyes and browse. To cover up and displace this face with such a disgrace of bifocle lenses I dare not misplace but interlace throughout my life unless I'm healed by your power and grace. |
| 2C |
| Which brings us back to the question Of what we do or do not see. Is it real, or is it not When disposed so favorably? Is there belief beyond sight? Is there strength beyond might? How this world filled with darkness Needs spiritual light! A light so bright that shines in the night So we'll fight with every breath to the death Like a true Israelite! O Lord, Point this life to the right! I pray this heart you'll ignite And these wings take to flight To a much greater height! Let no fear hold me back Let me persevere through all attack Let me be sliced, Let me be diced For I've been crucified with Christ And it's no longer I who live But His Spirit who lives though me And by that Spirit I'm enticed before time began He knew me The people may have laughed at me But I know my God has grafted me Into a body of believers And over-achievers Who will love and cherish Those about to perish And lead them to repentance And heal all of our diseases All in the name of Jesus, for this pleases the Father The Author of life and salvation The free gift to every nation All who call on His name will be saved For the road has been paved When he rose up from the grave So stand tall and be brave All you children who've behaved And not believed the deceived Of this world that's been depraved. |