Forced to make bricks without straw
Few know our history at all
LORD, you are it
‘Cause you are His story
It is no mystery
Dying, but with glory
bringing us in
We don’t deserve your kind love
Or all your work from above
LORD, help us pray
None can compare to you
All the great things you do
Black are our skies, not blue
Help us this day
Pharaoh’s alive and he’s well
Back from the grave we call hell
We fear the place
Backs to the Red Sea and
when we are near the end
we see our best of friends
LORD, you’re the way
Who tells the truth anymore?
To make our nation to soar?
Jesus, our Lord
For him, we’re hated, though
by all our stubborn foes
Though we are moving slow
we are onboard
The poem is new lyrics for the hymn “Come Thou, Almighty King”