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In open fields of wild flowers, |
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she breathes the air and flies away |
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She thanks her Jesus for the daises and the roses |
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in no simple language |
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Someday she'll understand the meaning of it all |
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He's more than the laughter or the stars in the heavens |
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As close a heartbeat or a song on her lips |
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Someday she'll trust Him and learn how to see Him |
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Someday He'll call her and she will come running |
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and fall in His arms and the tears will fall down and she'll pray, |
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"I want to fall in love with You" |
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Sitting silent wearing Sunday best |
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The sermon echoes through the walls |
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A great salvation through it calls to the people |
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who stare into nowhere, and can't feel the chains on their souls |
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He's more than the laughter or the stars in the heavens |
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As close a heartbeat or a song on our lips |
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Someday we'll trust Him and learn how to see Him |
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Someday He'll call us and we will come running |
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and fall in His arms and the tears will fall down and we'll pray, |
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"I want to fall in love with You" |
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It seems too easy to call you "Savior", |
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Not close enough to call you "God" |
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So as I sit and think of words I can mention |
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to show my devotion |
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"I want to fall in love with You" |
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"my heart beats for You" |
