I've got this feeling of gasping for air
A sense of abandon, of looming despair
The tears choke so strong, I can hardly breathe
Like acid they burn as they roll down my cheeks
Somewhere in the distance
I hear Your voice rolling over the hills
Like a fresh morning breeze
You touch my face with compassion until
I know that You love me still
Oh, I know that You love me still
Here stands my Picasso -- do you recognize
This face that I've painted, this bundle of lies
But You are the Master, the artist I crave
With long, flowing brushstrokes, paint me back from the grave
Somewhere in the distance
I hear Your voice rolling over the hills
Like a fresh morning breeze
You touch my face with compassion until
I know that You love me still
Oh, I know that You love me still
With long, flowing brushstrokes, paint me back from the grave