| Filled with humbleness and tempted by pride I kneel before you
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| I did not command but accept the fires you send
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| For not my hands receive and give, but through yours I deliver
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| Incomplete yet not unjust, and with you I shall burn
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| Veni sancte spiritos
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| Come and fill my vessel!
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| Grant me the right to speak
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| Clothe me with the fabric of perception
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| Here I am, bare and bleeding, facing your vast magnificence
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| Veni sancte spiritos
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| Come and fill my vessel!
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| Am I worthy, is my dignity enow
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| Cathechise your 7th disciple
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| Your Spears shall pierce my nescience
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| Who is higher than me, who else has your authority
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| Is my arrogance the sole ordeal in front of you?
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| Do these rites legitimate me to evangelise
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| Will you guide me through the entrails of the Earth
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| And accept my sacrifice
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| In the dirt, in orans posture
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| Presenting the litany
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| What more is there to offer than myself
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| My deeds and thoughts, my anguish and joice
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| Indulging in the shadow of your splendour
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| Building Cathedrals not of stones but words and tones
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| Bind not these hands of yours, but anoint them with strength
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| Fill this ardent vessel with your fiery revelation |