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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyrics:
The traces of tears disappear in the desert Where hot winds blow The touch of a conscience is lost in the ice and snow Ghosts of great cities, ruins of empires their spectres arise No sign of the living beneath these skies
Minutes are passing, they turn into hours The hours, they drift into days O, Redeemer, lift us above this maze
Up from the wasteland, like a dream Long forgotten reappearing Up from the wasteland Now redeemed, from a winter bleak and weary
Dry bones collected, connected by sinews Stand as an army of men Filled with the Spirit, they enter this world again
Its glorious light, or grey desolation The lines of the battle are drawn Jehovah, the rock that we stand upon
Up from the wasteland We are drawn, to a glory never ending Up from the wasteland By His hand, our iniquity transcending
All our enemies beneath His feet No height, nor depth, nor life, or death Can take us away from His love
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