When I lay me down to sleep,
And cry the tears that sinners weep;
To speak the words of a contrite prayer,
And know that someone listens there.
He cares for sheep that have gone astray,
Who willfully wander their own way;
They vex the pride that hides within,
And drink the bitter cup of sin.
The web of lies and dark deception,
Lie in defeat of Light’s conception;
To capture all and destroy life,
With passion’s fire and human strife
We need to plant the gospel vine,
Where evil rules and saints repine.
While martyrs lead with ransomed prayer,
With hope for life that tarries there.
Blood that was shed on Calvary,
Set slaves of transgression wholly free.
So we rise from the grave to seek reward,
Giving praise to our risen Lord.