There's just two ways to lose yourself in this life
And neither way is safe
In my dreams I see visions of the future
But today we have today
And where will I find You?

In the economy of mercy
I am a poor and begging man
In the currency of Grace
Is where my song begins
In the colors of Your goodness
In the scars that mark yur skin
Is where my song begins

These carbon shells
These fragile dusty frames
House canvases of souls
We are bruised and broken masterpieces
But we did not paint ourselves
And where will I find You?

Where was I when the world was made?
Where was I?

--Swithfoot, The Economy of Mercy