| Where do I begin to find
|
| A way to praise Your name
|
| When the feeling feels so special
|
| But the words all sound the same
|
| I’ll just get down on my knees, Lord
|
| It’s the only thing to do
|
| I can’t even start to praise Your name
|
| Without a touch from You
|
| Even the praise comes from You
|
| Every prayer that I raise comes from You
|
| Fill my mouth with words of worship
|
| And I’ll give them back to You
|
| 'Cause, Lord, they’re not my own
|
| They come from You alone
|
| Even the praise, every feeling and phrase
|
| Even the praise coms from You
|
| The sound of praise that blooms in me
|
| Is on You planted there
|
| You gave me the music
|
| To tell You how I care
|
| My life is just the branch, Lord
|
| But Your life is the Vine
|
| The melody that flows in me
|
| Was never really mine
|
| Even the praise comes from You
|
| Every prayer that I raise comes from You
|
| Fill my mouth with words of worship
|
| And I’ll give them back to You
|
| 'Cause, Lord, they’re not my own
|
| They come from You alone
|
| Even the praise, every feeling and phrase
|
| Even the praise comes from You
|
| Oh, even the praise comes from You |
| Every prayer that I raise comes from You
|
| Fill my mouth with words of worship
|
| And I’ll give them back to You
|
| 'Cause, Lord, they’re not my own
|
| They come from You alone
|
| Even the praise, every feeling and phrase
|
| Even the praise comes from You
|
| Lord, from You |