Isaiah 45:23

If my prayer be not humble, make it so

In these last hours, if the spirit waits in check, help

me let it go

And should my suffering double, let me never love you

less

Let every knee be bent and every tongue confess

And I won't get better

But someday I'll be free

'Cause I am not this body

That imprisons me

I read the magazines somebody brought

Hold them to my failing eyes until my hands get hot

And when the nurse comes in to change my sheets and

clothes

The pain begins to travel, dancing as it goes

And I won't get better

But someday I'll be free

'Cause I am not this body

That imprisons me

If my prayer goes unanswered, that's alright

If my path fills with darkness and there's no sign of

light

Let me praise you for the good times, let me hold your

banner high

Until the hills are flattened and the rivers all run

dry

And I won't get better

But someday I'll be free

'Cause I am not this body

That imprisons me