I serve a God who speaks-
Who speaks for me to hear.
And though his Word means life and love,
I rarely lend my ear.

Yet still he calls me as his own.
He grants me access ‘fore his throne.
Such love and grace to sinners shown!
Oh help me, Lord, to listen.

The world in wailing wreaks-
Wreaks havoc with its cries.
Though tinged with tones of great delight,
They only offer lies.

For underneath the white-washed skin
The dying soul cries out in sin,
And wonders, could it live again?
Oh help me, Lord, to listen.

I, therefore, need to pray-
To pray to hear his voice,
The whisper in the wilderness,
To make the holy choice.

For Christ has died in my own place
And given me a son’s embrace.
Oh let me look upon his face!
And help me, Lord, to listen!