A Tua Presença

I want more than the cloud
Over the tabernacle
I want more than hearing about Your deeds
I want more than entering the Holy of Holies
I want to touch Your Presence

I am nothing, just a servant
I am like the grass of the field
That soon withers and falls
I am made of clay
But let me touch Your Presence

Man is only standing
Prostrated at your feet, total dependence
The righteous lives by faith
I don't want to just hear about You
Today I came to draw virtue from Yours