So, you know how every once in a while, you come across a song that just hits the spot? You find yourself just pushing the back button on your ipod when there are only like 5 seconds left and just listening to it all over again…
Well… that has been this song for me! Sara Groves is rockin’ my world with her song “When The Saints”. I mean, any time I find a song that molds social justice stuff with a Hammond organ and a gospel choir in the background, you know a brother has got to smile! But snap… read these lyrics and see if it doesn’t get you krunk…
But more importantly, you should get this CD and add it to your collection, because it is well worth the money, even if it were for this song alone.
Lord I have a heavy burden of all I’ve seen and know
It’s more than I can handle
But your word is burning like a fire shut up in my bones
and I cannot let it go
And when I’m weary and overwrought
with so many battles left unfought
I think of Paul and Silas in the prison yard
I hear their song of freedom rising to the stars
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
Lord it’s all that I can’t carry and cannot leave behind
It often overwhelms me
When I think of all who’ve gone before me and lived the faithful life
Their courage compells me
And when I’m weary and overwrought
with so many battles left unfought
I think of Paul and Silas in the prison yard
I hear their song of freedom rising to the stars
I see the shepherd Moses in the Pharoh’s court
I hear his call of freedom for the people of the Lord
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
I see the long quiet walk along the Underground Railroad
I see the slave awakening to the value of her soul
I see the young missionary and the end of the spear
I see his family returning with no trace of fear
I see the long hard shadows of Calcutta nights
I see the sisters standing by the lepers side
I see the young girl huddled on the brothel floor
I see the man with a passion come and kicking down the door
I see the man of sorrows and his long troubled road
I see the world on his shoulders and my easy load
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
