Greater men than I
Have found dark favor
In temptation’s eye,
And Satan laughs at the fall and folly,
When time and again
Man falls to sin.
Hear that cackle?
I’ve heard that laugh in restless slumber,
Where darkness closes in
And seven spirits more add to the number
Feasting on my sin.
And I’ve cried, “Help! I’ve fallen,
“And I can’t get up!”
But make no mockery
For the fall from grace
Into Satan’s embrace
Is a terrible place to be.
And pride keeps the jailer’s key.
Does not matter where man lives,
In wealth or pauper’s penury,
The fall from grace might well be eternity.
There is no, “Onions, cheese,
“Hold the mayo, please,”
When time to swallow pride,
And believe, ye, me
It won’t go down smooth as summer’s tea.
But somewhere amidst the tears,
Amidst the fears,
Amidst the seemingly senseless rambles
Of words I never knew,
The Holy Spirit opens the door,
Sweeps out the pride like sweeping the floor
And grace fills its place once more.
Thank you, Jesus.