If I should find myself in blackest night,
and fear is stabbin me all over,
a tiny prayer cracks the dark with light,
and I here sounds behind my wall.
Inside, a still, small voice, it calls and calls.
Then like a thunder bolt,
it falls and falls...
My God!

When life becomes more real than childrens games,
or weve become too old to play them,
Well grow old gracefully,
well hide our shame.
but theres that voice behind the wall.
And like my conscience,
it is still and small.
Each word is mercy,
protects us all...
My God!

"And like my conscience, it is still and small.
Each word is mercy, protects us all..."
I was a boy,
when tempted,
fell sometimes,
and fell so low,
no one could see me,
save for the eyes of Him that sees my crime.
When sheep,
like me, have drifted lost,
all frightened children who are tempest tossed, down flies His wrath like an albatross...
My God!