| I’m living in a land of death
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| The trees are burning grey
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| There’s a smoldering smoke overhead
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| And the night looks the same as the day
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| It seems a miracle that I can stand
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| When everyone I’ve known
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| Drifts up in the air with the ash
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| Every time that the wind starts to blow
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| But I feel alive with a life that’s not mine
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| Your law is a stream in this wasteland — my lifeline
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| So much more than precious gold
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| Are your promises my lord
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| By them is your servant warned
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| In keeping them great reward
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| Your direction is marked in light
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| Your law secures my wounds
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| I will meditate day and night
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| And in season you’ll harvest your fruit
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| Though a poison should threaten to kill
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| I know my savior reigns
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| And when the breezes of death leave a chill
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| I’ve got Jesus' blood in my veins
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| So I feel alive with a life that’s not mine
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| And I’m believing that that is your intended design
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| The kingdoms of man have all decayed
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| The ruins of progress turn to waste
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| The gods of greed lay in their graves
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| Darkness is everywhere
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| But there’s a path in the dark that has emerged
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| I can see a great light beyond this curse
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| A brilliant blaze that is your word
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| A beacon of hope that burns
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| And I focus my captivated gaze
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| On the radiant light from Jesus' face
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| The water of life is all I crave
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| Only your word remains |