In You

I sing for joy and my remorse A well within prosperity's curse That drowns the mighty oak of pride But feeds the root of God inside In You I find my rest In You I find my death In You I find my all and my emptiness Somehow it all makes sense In You I'm rich when I've been made poor Comfort found when I mourn The prideful one, You see from afar Drawing near to low broken hearts In You I find my rest In You I find my death In You I find my all and my emptiness But it all makes sense In You I find my rest In You I find my death In You I find my all and my emptiness But it all makes sense In You I find my rest In You I find my death In You I find my all and my emptiness Somehow it all makes sense in You