Anchor

I’ve been drifting for such a long time This old ship with its seafaring ways But big waves ever harder to climb Seem to threaten to shorten my days This old ship and its seafaring ways Barnacled heavy with bowing of masts Seem to threaten to shorten my days I just wonder how long I will last Barnacled heavy with bowing of masts For these years I’ve refused His strong hand I just wonder how long I will last Till I find once again some soft sand For these years I’ve refused His strong hand And though parched have rejected His drink Till I find once again some soft sand I deserve from my choices to sink And though parched have rejected His drink I detect that the waters recede I deserve from my choices to sink But instead for His mercy I’ll plead I detect that the waters recede And so reach for the bent cross of iron But instead for His mercy I’ll plead Casting rope with the weight so required And so reach for the bent cross of iron I expect ocean’s floor to be rough Casting rope with the weight so required For the anchor He gives is enough I expect ocean’s floor to be rough I’ve been drifting for such a long time For the anchor He gives is enough And the hills in His steps I will climb