In the pub, the lads let loose,
With **** this and ****** that, their verbal abuse.
I leaned in close, with a knowing grin,
"I know your favourite word," I said, "it's **** within."

Their jaws dropped, their eyes wide,
"Did you just say that?" they cried.
But I held my ground, calm and steady,
"My favourite word," I said, "is Jesus already."

For Jesus, to me, is more than a name,
A beacon of hope, a guiding flame.
In moments of doubt, in times of despair,
His love reminds me someone’s always there.

He’s the light in the dark, the calm in the storm,
A shelter, a refuge, a heart so warm.
So while you toss your words around,
I’ll hold onto mine, profound and sound.