Texty písní Sixpence None The Richer Divine Discontent Dizzy

Dizzy

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I'm like Thomas, doubting
Fingers routing the scars
Of Your wrists and side
Touching flesh will make my mind believe

But I want to be like David
Throw his clothes to the wind
To dance a jig, in my skin
And be remade by your cleansing again

I give You myself
It's all that I have
Broken and frail
I'm clay in Your hands
And I'm spinning unconcealed
Dizzy on this wheel
For You my Love

I'm like Peter, crying
Crowing burning my ears
Still You come near
You take my hand
And place it upon an eternal chance

I give You myself
It's all that I have
Broken and frail
I'm clay in Your hands
And I'm spinning unconcealed
Dizzy on this wheel
For You my Love

I give You myself
It's all that I have
Broken and frail
I'm clay in Your hands
And I'm spinning unconcealed
Dizzy on this wheel
For You my Love
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