Ballad Of A Sinner
Who? Who can heal this broken man?
Badly wounded by the war not seen by the naked eye,
No bombs, no aeroplanes; just grief and anguish and bitter sighs.
Who? Who can find this lost man?
Lost in his own busy world,
Where lusts and lies is all that is served.
Who? Who can deliver this guilty man?
Spirit unfree not from bars but in pain,
Imprisoned not in jail nor in chains.
Who? Who can forgive this sinful man?
Of the most unknown filthy secrets,
Kept deep in the heart of regrets.
Who? Who can save this dying man?
Tortured by his own hostile hands,
His soul – a place of desolation like a deserted land.
Who? Who can hear this screaming man?
In the silence of his mouth,
In the chaos of a faceless crowd.
And just who? Who will believe in You?
When everybody thinks You are just what some made You to be.
And who? Just who is worthy to write a song for You?
When all words seemed to be not so fitting for Thee.
Who? Who is worthy to sing that song for You?
The sweetest lullaby they would call and all will agree.
Who? Who can sacrifice His own life?
Die there on the cross,
While the world remains unmoved by what it had just lost.
Who? Who can face death for someone else’s life?
To be shamed to give us pride,
To become poor to make us rich in His sight.
Who? Who can tell the story of redemption?
To a world that never cares,
To a world that never listen and never even dares.
Now who? Who can give me that sweet salvation?
The One who can guide me across that stormy cold night,
And after the dark, just what will I see in the day light.
Who? Who can destroy something built for years?
And restore it back in three days,
Not for glory nor honor but for us to believe more than just His face.
Who? Who can make me from miry clay and tears?
I can let You break me just to be whole again,
Even a thousand times of pain if it worth all the gain.
I know it will worth it…
To drink that crimson blood of the worthy lamb,
And live with Thee there in Your promised land.
Badly wounded by the war not seen by the naked eye,
No bombs, no aeroplanes; just grief and anguish and bitter sighs.
Who? Who can find this lost man?
Lost in his own busy world,
Where lusts and lies is all that is served.
Who? Who can deliver this guilty man?
Spirit unfree not from bars but in pain,
Imprisoned not in jail nor in chains.
Who? Who can forgive this sinful man?
Of the most unknown filthy secrets,
Kept deep in the heart of regrets.
Who? Who can save this dying man?
Tortured by his own hostile hands,
His soul – a place of desolation like a deserted land.
Who? Who can hear this screaming man?
In the silence of his mouth,
In the chaos of a faceless crowd.
And just who? Who will believe in You?
When everybody thinks You are just what some made You to be.
And who? Just who is worthy to write a song for You?
When all words seemed to be not so fitting for Thee.
Who? Who is worthy to sing that song for You?
The sweetest lullaby they would call and all will agree.
Who? Who can sacrifice His own life?
Die there on the cross,
While the world remains unmoved by what it had just lost.
Who? Who can face death for someone else’s life?
To be shamed to give us pride,
To become poor to make us rich in His sight.
Who? Who can tell the story of redemption?
To a world that never cares,
To a world that never listen and never even dares.
Now who? Who can give me that sweet salvation?
The One who can guide me across that stormy cold night,
And after the dark, just what will I see in the day light.
Who? Who can destroy something built for years?
And restore it back in three days,
Not for glory nor honor but for us to believe more than just His face.
Who? Who can make me from miry clay and tears?
I can let You break me just to be whole again,
Even a thousand times of pain if it worth all the gain.
I know it will worth it…
To drink that crimson blood of the worthy lamb,
And live with Thee there in Your promised land.