You And I

I sing for joy In 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