Felix Culpa

Turn the lights on
Look at what I have
See the twisted trophies of a dead man

Countless stories
Tell of sin and pain
But they sing the sweetness of my savior's grace

I'm a torn man
Spirit fighting flesh
There's a battle raging deep in my chest

But all that haunts me
All that leaves a stain
Only sings the sweetness of my savior's grace

A fortunate fall
My sins are stories of grace to recall
A fortunate fall
I glory in my sins forgiven

Jesus bought me
And now I am His
Dying with Him
In His death I now live

All my vices
To which I was chained
Only speak the sweetness of my savior's grace

A fortunate fall
My sins are stories of grace to recall
A fortunate fall
I glory in my sins forgiven

And still
I'm a wicked wretched man
I do everything I hate
I am fighting to be God
I seethe and claw and thrash and shake
I have killed and stacked the dead
On a throne from which I reign
In the end I just want blood
And with His blood my hands are stained
See the God who reigns on high
He has opened His own veins
From His wounds a rushing torrent that can wash it all away

Grace upon grace, upon grace upon grace