Walking the plan...
Walking the line...
Lord, I am yours...
But the burden... is mine.

The path is paved in gold, they say,
But every step feels made of lead.
I bow my head and start to pray,
As heavy clouds gather ahead.
You wrote the script, You set the stage,
I am the ink, I am the cage.
Help by His grace...
Tears on my face...

His grace is not a gentle breeze!
It is a fire that boils the seas!
We crawl in the dirt, we scrape our knees...
Just to beg the master, "Please!"

CRUSHED!
BY THE GRACE!
FALL!
ON YOUR FACE!
The master’s plan is a holy grave!
He must destroy... before He can save!
Oh, the weight!
The terrible weight of His plan!

I asked for strength, You gave me pain,
To wash the weakness from my blood.
I asked for sun, You sent the rain,
And drowned my ego in the mud.
Walking in God’s plan for my life...
Means holding the handle of the knife.

Will I survive the holy light?(Burn the night...)
Is there a dawn beyond this fight? (Lose your sight...)
I surrender all! I let it fall!

CRUSHED!
BY THE GRACE!
FALL!
ON YOUR FACE!
The master’s plan is a holy grave!
He must destroy... before He can save!
Oh, the weight!
The beautiful weight...

Walking in His plan...
Sinking... in His hand.
Amen.