It's not by our Sword,
But it's by your Word,
Your Word is our Sword.
It's not our own arm,
But it's by your arm,
That we escape any harm.
We can't stand in this land,
Unless you sustain us with your right hand.
It's not our Might,
But through your face's Light,
That we fight the good Fight.
We are lost in this Maze,
Unless you show us your face,
Through your Mercy & Grace.
I no longer trust my Bow,
For truly, now I know,
Who takes care of all my Foes?
I was once such a slave,
That not my sword or anyone's could save,
But only your Spirit, the same who raised you from the grave.
It was never the staff nor the rod,
But the one & only true God.
So, regardless of all the Shame in this Lame,
I'll give thanks & glorify your Name.
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