I wanna make something beautiful for You and from You To show You, to show You I a- dore You, oh, You And Your journey towards me which I see and I see All You push through, mad for You and because of You I couldn't thank You in ten thousand years If I cried ten thousand rivers of tears Ah, but You know the soul and You know what makes it gold You who give life through blood Blood, blood, blood, blood, oh, blood, blood Oh, I wanna make something so lovely for You 'Cause I promised that's what I'd do for You With the Bible I stole, I know You forgave my soul Because such was my need on a chronic Christmas Eve And I think we're agreed that it should have been free And You sang to me They dress the wounds of My poor people as though they're nothing Saying, peace, peace when there's no peace They dress the wounds of My poor people as though they're nothing Saying, peace, peace, peace when there's no peace Days without number Now can a bride forget her jewels or a maid her ornaments? Yet my people 'forgotten Me Days without number, days without number And in their want, Who'll dress their wounds? ) Who'll dress their wounds?