When You got there
I was sure You'd come too late.
We all pay You lip service,
Then address our prayers to fate.
Sister gone.
She tripped and fell.
A prodigal hell.
And do I dare believe You'll reach
Such a long lost cause,
Wrapped in gauze?
As good as dead.

She's breathing

My Lord,
She's a miracle child.
I know
She's a miracle child.
And I saw
How she'd chosen the grave.
My Lord, it's a miracle save.

When she woke up,
We were dumbstruck at the sight.
Like coming out of a coma,
All she asked for was more light.

Fluttering eyes.
Light from a tomb.
You flooded her room
With a fearsome mercy.
Torn from the devil's grip,
From the clutches of fear.
I can hear her dead heart beating.

My Lord,
She's a miracle child.
I know
She's a miracle child.
And I saw
How she'd chosen the grave.
My Lord, it's a miracle save.

We lose hope.
We mumble our prayers.
We seal off the stairs
And never dare believe Your reach
Can pass through stone,
Can lead a child home,
Can make the dead start blinking.

My Lord,
She's a miracle child.
I know
She's a miracle child.
And I saw
How she'd chosen the grave.
My Lord, it's a miracle save.

By Steve Taylor, Peter Furler