I sing.
O, I sing.

I sing of heartbreak and loss,
Of romance well ended.
I sing of heartstrings
Soaring, suspended.
I sing of the day
When freedom will last.
I sing of the future;
I sing of the past.
I sing into moments
Where silence would ****.
I sing into spaces
Otherwise still.
I sing of great battles
That in fighting were won.
I sing of the laughter
That pours from the sun.
I sing of the Muses
Who tell me their stories.
I sing of great caverns
Which hold hidden glories.
I sing of my people,
Of women and men.
I sing of their proofs
Shown to me yet again.
I sing of my Saviour,
My Father, my King.
I sing for all graces,
I sing for all things.

O, I sing.
I sing.