From the hand with which we are fed
We will always bow our weary head
People pleasing into soul squeezing
Leaves you cold, cut and barely breathing
Until the day we remember
The true cost of this surrender
In order to release our addiction
We will need to make this admission
We are not separate from that which guides us
Even in our darkest moments of desolate crisis
The time has come to make a commitment
Will you be eternally fed with God’s enrichment?
