The Race
The Race
The gun was shot and stride for stride we race
The lions roared but I could feel the Dove
Around we pushed at an outrageous pace
The Angels cheered the demons rose above
His tears of joy poured down from Heaven, Rain
Though faithful to Him goddess on my feet
The Angels have smiles equal demons pain
The taste of Victory was more than Sweet
My honey like blood flowing Fast and slow
The Angels flying in great haste to Light
Now feeling Grace replace the woe
The slow Malignant crawl to fire not bright
The Angels sitting in line of the King
Once he did not believe now all Saints sing