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S \ Sixpence
None The Richer \ Dizzy
I'm like Thomas
doubting
Fingers routing the scars
Of Your wrists and side
Touching flesh will make my mind believe
But I want to be
like David
Throw his clothes to the wind
To dance a jig, in my skin
And be re-made by your cleansing again
Chorus:
I give You myself
It's all that I have
Broken and frail
I'm clay in Your hands
And I'm spinning unconcealed
Dizzy on this wheel
For You my Love
I'm like Peter
crying
Crowing burning my ears
Still You come near
You take my hand
And place it upon an eternal chance
(Chours x2)
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