There are so many songs

That proclaim you as God.

And so many times, my mouth will sing.

But my heart stands still.

It's not that I've never meant it.

The words are just so rehearsed.

Memory sings, not meaning or true praise.

I can look the part,

and sing with the best of them,

Yet my outward appearances mean nothing

Cause you look at my heart.

What will it take for a pure, spotless heart?

What could clean away the filth?

Can this cold heart be melted?

Turned from stone to sensitive flesh?

It's your blood that cleanses me.

Wash me, purify me, let my heart

Beat for you forever.

I accept your forgiveness,

and proclaim your faithfulness.