It's a throbbing in my heart. A phrase in rhythmic art. Sounding out in purest tone. A melody all its own. I will sing the praises of the one who raises life. IT's in the air all around rising in melodic sound. The rich harmonious strains. Praise the lamb who was slain. These sounds my soul can hear. In sweet notes pure and clear. Straining to arrange in verse. A song to rise above the curse.
