Worship Sunday – A Rising Fire

I see the sun, a rising fire
Bursting through the morning haze
Warming every stone and river
Turning every leaf to gaze

I see the flowers o’er the field
Lo they neither toil nor spin
Effortlessly clothed in splendor
Ever glorious for their King

O I sing
For my King
Hear this cry
Lord, to You I lift my eyes
You alone are my desire

O I sing
For my King
Hear this cry
Lord, to You I lift my eyes
You alone are my desire

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