We Are The Beggars At The Foot Of God's Door

We are gathered in cathedrals on a Sunday

We are shrouded in our pride and lust's despair

We have heard that You said, "Go to where your hearts once were"

Trusting we'd arrive to find You there

We have known the empty senses of a funeral

We are haunted by the promises of death

We have asked to see Your face and noticed nothing

But a well timed honest smile from a friend

Oh, we of little faith

Oh, You of stubborn grace

We are the beggars, we are the beggars

We are the beggars at the foot of God's door

We have grown cold to the kisses of our lovers

We have rolled the windows up and driven through

The forests of the autumn, the innocence of snow

Metaphor of Jesus in the dew

We have known the heated passion of the cold night

We have sold ourselves to everything we hate

We're hypocrites and politicians running from a fight

We've cheated on a very jealous mate

Oh, we of little faith

Oh, You of stubborn grace

We are the beggars, we are the beggars

We are the beggars at the foot of God's door

We've known, we've known

We've known the pain of loving in a dying world

And our lies have made us angry at the truth

But Cinderella's slipper fits us perfectly

And somehow we're made royalty with You

Royalty with You, royalty

We are the beggars, we are the beggars

We are the beggars at the foot of God's door

We are, we are, we are, we are

We are the beggars at the foot of God's door

[Incomprehensible]