When the best of my intentions
Won't reach for their potential
And the language of love
Hesitates to leave my tongue
I tire of trying to translate
What I am to what should be
No, the inside of this stained glass cup
Never really does seem to come clean
So I stake out my pretenses
And keep washing white these fences
But the colors underneath them
Keep showing through again
I tire of trying to translate
What I know to what I do
Won't You scrub this dusty window, Lord?
Let Your light get through
When I come to You, I come clean
Can't pretend to any good in me
Wash me in Your love, I come clean
So you cover me with Jesus
And You see me just like He is
And I am confident to tremble in
Your presence once again
When I come to You, I come clean
Can't pretend to any good in me
Wash me in Your blood, I come clean

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