We Are The Beggars At The Foot Of Gods 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 to 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 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

The 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 stubborn grace

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

We have 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,

Oh we of little faith,

Oh You of stubborn grace

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

And You have welcomed us in