040-03

I was upright, I feared the Lord
My hands were clean, my heart was pure
Yet calamity came like a thief in the night
Why do the righteous fall, while the wicked rise

Why, O God, do You hide Your face
I cry out, but You give no reply
My friends all say it must be my sin
But my conscience holds — I know my hands are clean

See, brother, everything is vanity
Even the just man bleeds the same

I wish I had never been born
Curse the day that brought me here
Yet still my soul clings to something
A hope I cannot kill or fear