Sometimes I want to cry
But my tears stay repressed,
Refusing to move
Despite my protest

Sometimes I want to groan,
Scream words I detest
But my voice, she too fails me
Despite my request

Sometimes I want to sit down
But the world makes me stand
And so I keep marching
Despite my demands

And in these strange moments
Exposed as a fool
I know of just one person
Whom I can turn to

The King of the fools
The King of the weak
The King of the hurting
The King of the meek

The King who identifies
With those in their faults
And lifts their heads up,
The King who exalts

And so I’m exalted,
Yet not through my works
But through my King Jesus
Who heals my hurts

The King of the fools
The King of the weak
The King of the hurting
The King of the meek

And so I have hope
For my King never fails
To hold me through weakness
Till his strength prevails

The King of the saints
The King of the strong
The King of all grace
To whom I belong!

Written by Mick Mooney