Sparrow
You're like a bird pure and sweet,
ebbing and flowing in the wind of your own deceit.
Lost in a world all your own
haunted by hidden sins,
it's time to atone.
Days blur by, but you can't tell which is which
you wish there was time,
to make an adjustment.
You can't tell night from day
why would you want to fly away,
nothing is going to change.
Trying to alter yourself for the better,
you've claimed defeat.
You are a bird pure and sweet.
Seasons come and go,
And the wind flows from high to low,
But remember He has His eye on the sparrow.
