(These are the words. Your faith is the music.)
That thing I do, I wish I would not do.
That thing I do, I wish I would not do.
I guess my flesh gives nothing but the blues.
That thing I don’t do, I wish I would do.
That thing I don’t do, I wish I would do.
I wish that someone could give me good news.
I am no good, I am a messed up wretch.
I am no good, I am a messed up wretch.
This body I carry is full of death.
Who can save me from this body of mine?
Who can save me from this body of mine?
I think I’ll call up Jesus on the line.
Said my flesh died with Jesus on his tree.
Said my flesh died with Jesus on his tree.
When I believe that word that’s victory!
I am no longer death’s unwilling slave.
I am no longer death’s unwilling slave.
Thanks be to God Christ has declared me saved.
Since Jesus gave me all of this good news.
Since Jesus gave me all of this good news.
I must rename this poem, it aint the blues.