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.
