The Lord loves the humble.
The Lord loves the contrite in spirit.
The Lord loves those who tremble at his words.
Lord, show me my sin. Help me ter see the scruffiness of my actions with the spyglass vision ya use. Well I know when I see myself the way you spy me, my spirit ‘ill break and sorrow fer what I done ‘ill drive me ter my knees. In humility I ask ya ter inspect me from the tip of my mast ter the bottom of my keel. Point out ter me my barnacles and rot so I ‘ill beg you ter fix me good as new.
Yer words clap with the power of thunder, this well I know. Tremble I do when you speak harsh words ter me. Beg you I do, Lord, be gentle with this old soul. If not, my feeble heart ‘ill fail.