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外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/df8f09ab66467537ba21527baeb98d0b.mp3
点击复制A cabin built of aging beams
Holds prayers too humble for our dreams;
Its door ajar its candles lean
Yet peace walks softly in between
No preacher calls no organ cries
Yet mercy dwells where silence lies;
Each bench of pine and crimson stain
Absorbs the world’s unspoken pain
I sit the dust becomes my psalm
The cold air turns to healing balm;
Forgiveness blooms in every grain
Without condition loss or gain
When leaving I look once behind
The chapel shrinks yet fills my mind;
For grace requires no crown or cost—
It simply waits for those once lost
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