The Refuge (based on Psalm 11)
Wretched whore of a thousand lies
You tell yourself and then despise
The darkness of the life you live;
You hate your soul and can’t forgive.
Wretched whore the fault is yours;
Though slave you be, you grabbed this cup.
Ignoring all of God’s good laws,
You scorned his face and drank it up.
Wretched whore they dig so deep
And tear at every rock that keeps
Your heart in place it bears no more,
They’ve dragged you here to death’s grim door.
Wretched whore now lift your eyes,
For someone else stands at this door.
You’ll find that refuge in him lies;
Your debt is paid, your life restored.
