Hotel for the Saints

I'm walking through this world wearing borrowed clothes,
I'll have to return them but when nobodies knows
I've seen the wind blow through the washing line,
With hang ups I call divine
I've leveraged my good deeds for all to see,
with bankrupt beliefs known unto me
The bailiffs going to come to fetch his toll,
God have mercy on my soul
In a hotel for the saints every guest had complaints
But my confessions were softly spoken in a hospital for the broken
Every seats been taken by a truth that was forsaken,
Be still my beating heart, it longs for you
Working this field with St. Stephen's spade,
It's not by my design but I'm grateful all the same
Redeeming this dirt for its latent yield,
Til there's no vacancy in the potter's field
This harvest's going to come by the work of grace,
Through labor I've wrestled in my place
We'll all raise an eye when that trumpet sounds,
Blessed is he who lays those notes down
In a hotel for the saints every guest had complaints
But my confessions were softly spoken in a hospital for the broken
Every beds been taken by a truth that was forsaken,
Be still my beating heart, it longs for you
I'm walking with you to the top of this hill,
Closing my eyes, hands on the wheel
My offering is humble, these words are sweet
I've wrapped my life in tears so I could wash your feet
I'll offer up to you my most coveted dream,
Vestments I no longer need
With these callused hands and a heart open wide,
I stand where love and flesh collide
In a hotel for the saints every guest had complaints
But my confessions were softly spoken in a hospital for the broken
Everyone's been taken by a truth that's been forsaken,
Be still my beating heart, it longs for you