A needle’s shot of pain and fear
(this drug the Enemy found dear)
Made from souls tormented here
A harvest dark and mean.
The Adversary boasted win
Sad, hopeless cries were strength to him
He whispered lies; they wept again
Casting away their joy.
Then, standing in the miry clay
A woman, in her fear and pain,
Began to sing about the Name
She knew could set her free.
She sang to drown the Serpent’s lies
True words to heal her own dark mind
A song to beckon angel-kind
She held the hand of God.
The Devil dropped his whip and screamed
Then, when she paused he quickly reached
With angry claws to thrash and beat
Our Singer in the mire.
But in his grasp, she sang The Song,
A simple, desperate sing-a-long
Until a voice, both glad and strong
Joined her in harmony.
The Adversary shrank in size;
A rabid dog, a gnat, a lie—
He disappeared beneath her eyes
And still her song went on.
The universe now rang with sound
Angel-kind had gathered around
For at my side, on conquered ground,
Sang the King of Kings.