Why don’t you say, you’ve had a bad day
When it’s true, that you often do?
Why can’t you tell, you’re

I could fret and worry just about every day

But instead I choose just to kneel down and pray

I could let my anger build

The hands that shaped the world's creation,
the giver of my writing inspiration.
His strong fingers that soothe a worried

In God's hand my life is held,

With every breath that I take.

From the very start of day,

When I begin to awake.

I know

I stand before you, Lord
In Your presence I should feel shame
Knowing I fall short of your glory
That I have strayed too far