In a still small voice, barely heard,
Though the wind be but a whisper, leaves are stirred.
In the fragrant incense of a prayer,
Lies the everlasting promise, God is there.
God said, call upon my name give me no rest,
‘Till the people I have chosen call me blessed,
In the land where they will dwell secure,
I have given you my promise, it is sure.
It’s a nation, born of one desire,
As it rises from the ashes, tried by fire,
To return and claim the Promised Land,
People who will not be beaten down again.
So let all creation praise His name,
Youth renewed like morning dew, from latter rain,
It’s not thunder sounding loud again,
But the blending heartbeats of a million men.
Though these ancient bones be dry and old,
God has sewn them back together as foretold,
Standing now, and walking as a man,
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WILDsound Festival 