When the best of my intentions

Won't reach for their potential

And the language of love

Hesitates to leave my tongue

I tire of trying to translate

What I am to what should be

No, the inside of this stained-glass cup

Never really does seem to come clean



So I stake out my pretenses

And keep washing white these fences

But the colors underneath them

Keep showing through again

I tire of trying to translate

What I know to what I do

Won't You scrub this dusty window Lord

Let Your light get through



When I come to You, I come clean

Can't pretend to any good in me

Wash me in Your love, I come clean



So you cover me with Jesus

And You see me just like He is

And I am confident to tremble in

Your presence once again



When I come to You, I come clean

Can't pretend to any good in me

Wash me in Your blood, I come clean