Why do I forget the pleasure of your ways? Why must I regret my wicked evil days? Long your steadfast love has faithful ever been Freely from above your covenant with men. Yet my fickle heart will follow sinful whim. From you I depart down pathways ever grim. How can you stand by and let me run so far? O, how must you cry when oft’ your hands I scar. When away I run, I do not, Lord, know how I forget your Son, his bloodied beaten brow.