We must be ploughed-up
Half-handed cloud
We must be ploughed up and resewn
All the bad habits overgrown
Won't you take out the old dirty roots?
We thought trimming back would cure it
Growing depth in the way I see
The way I feel
The way I sound
And it's all tangled up underground
And You're the only one who can plough it.
All the bad habits overgrown
Won't you take out the old dirty roots?
We thought trimming back would cure it
Growing depth in the way I see
The way I feel
The way I sound
And it's all tangled up underground
And You're the only one who can plough it.
(Pick me up and plant you, instead Lord!)
(Pick me up and plant you, instead Lord!)
We must be ploughed up and resewn
(Pick me up and plant you, instead Lord!)
Our growing is never enough, Lord.
(Pick me up and plant you, instead Lord!)
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