Mostimes my ideas the enemy will fluster
times like these it's all I can do to muster
a feeble cry for divine help
Lord, this is your lion whelp

Seems like I can never learn
on my knees constantly yearn
the midnight oil for Him I burn
as treasures up there I humbly earn

Not by might saith the Lord
nor yet by power
but by My Spirit, The Word
My Name - the Strong Tower

His Word, daily is alive and fresh
His Mercies, new evey morning
teaches me to crucify this flesh
His Spirit in me adorning

Take up thy cross and follow me
learn of me and be blessed
His Word in my life is the Key
for white robes up there to Be Dressed