Gotta put a face
To this place
I tell you that's all
I tell you that's all
We're enemies
In our own minds
And that is our
Lowest common denominator
Sons + daughters
My bruised ego
Needs you
To complete little me
I'm going straight to you my dear Pappa please
Come together
We'll break bread and
Then we'll wait
In this home
To be filled
To be known
No longer infants tossed to + fro
All of these things
Are under your feet
Your head over us
You're filling us sweetly
This body of yours
The very firstborn
Among all the dead
You have all supremely
Just as you like
You rearrange my
Branches disturbing commonalities, 'cause
It is the hour
We are the Bride
The parts + the power
One Spirit the Guide
The fullness of you who fills everything
In every way
Since we live by the Spirit
Let us keep in step
The weak we cannot live without
Let's not be proud
Let's instead rejoice + be glad
For the Wedding of the Lamb has finally come

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