If on hollowed ground I seek
Living in the sense of life
Will the holy keepers keep?
And keep me in this searing strife?
Death that holds me like a friend
Means to me so many things
I will see You in the end
And wear my robe and all my rings.
So as the bullets fly so near
Sometimes ripping into me
Fill me with your holy fear
And teach me now how I might be.