His hands paint the flowers he puts leaves on the trees At His whisper birds start singing when my heart needs melodies Why I strayed from all his goodness my poor mind can't understand I'm to blame for my misfortune I lost hold of his hands Those hands that give me mercy when I'm wrong as wrong can be If they really gave me justice I'd be lost on homeless seas I've been lost in the shuffle I've obeyed the wrong commands I'm going back to the chapel in search of his hands [ guitar ] Why I strayed from all his goodness...
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