The wicked grin, the simple rejoice
and those that hate us clap their hands and laugh
at our Missouri
babies are born and souls depart
yet, the lies and hate they remain and fuel the fire
they blast my heart more and more
none say restore
No one knows our name in the streets
Remember, O Lord, what is become of us
the residue of your people
Will you not have compassion on Zion
We are scattered, our strength is spent,
Our Hope is lost, and We faint
Come, rescue us from the hand of them that are stronger than us
Send forth the Deliverer once again
Restore the heart of your people
set the Captives free
Open the doors of our prison
Rise us from our Graves
That men may know that
there is a GOD in Israel
whose name alone is YAHAWAH
and they are but mere mortals
Shalam,
Zarach
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