Is this the strange feeling
Of you working all to good
'Cause I am so confused
I don't even ask for what I should
When I asked for and deserved a stone
You broke and gave your body as bread
And even the stone that dropped down and rolled away
Spoke of the one who bled
There you go working good from my bad
There you go making robes from my rags
There you go melting crowns from my calves
There you go working good of all I have
Till all I have's not that bad