I am full of earth.
You are heaven's worth.
I am stained with dirt, prone to depravity.
You are my everything that is bright and clean, the antonym of me.
You are divinity.
But a certain sign of grace is this: From the broken earth flowers come up pushing through the dirt.
You are holy, holy, holy.
All heaven cries, "Holy, holy God."
You are holy, holy, holy.
I want to be holy like You are.
You are everything that is bright and clean.
And You're covering me with Your majesty.
And the truest sign of grace was this: From wounded hands redemption fell down, liberating man.
But the harder I try the more clearly can I fell the depth of our fall and the weight of it all.
And so this might could be the most impossible thing: Your grandness in me making me clean.
Glory, hallelujah.
Glory, glory, hallelujah.
So here I am, all of me.
Finally everything.
Wholly, wholly, wholly - I am wholly, wholly, wholly - I am wholly, wholly, wholly... Yours.
I am full of earth and dirt and You.