If I could touch with my fumbling hands your scars
If I could know in my rebel mind your heart
If I could see with my lusting eyes your face
If I could taste on my withered tongue sweet grace

Would I trust You near enough
Would I trust You near enough
Would I trust You near enough
Enough to die
Enough to love

If I could hear with two muffled ears your voice
If could find in my troubled life true joy
If I could feel with numb fingers your spirit
If I could drink for my barren soul your tears

Would I trust You near enough
Would I trust You near enough
Enough to die
Enough to die
Enough to love

If I could touch with my trembling hands your scars

Would I trust You near enough
Would I trust You near enough
Would I trust You near enough
Enough to die
Enough to live
Enough to love


(Hindalong, Daugherty)