When I charge ahead 
Try and forge my own way 
Even my best laid plans 
Are rubbed and washed away
In the ever  shifting sands 

And I'm left on hands and knees
Scrabbling round in the dirt
Bruised and battered I bleed
My Spirit crushed and hurt

So I'll climb back onto the solid rock 
And root myself to the spot
Nourish my soul in the psalmists words 
Terra firma, taking stock