Boxes | John Long

Written by John Long and Dustin Smith Lyrics: We're stuck in boxes Religion of our own design But rules and limits Are never what You had in mind To walk in union Is what You wanted from the start Holy communion Consecrated, set apart Clean hands, a pure heart That’s what I’m longing for are Clean hands, a pure heart That’s what You’re asking for are Clean hands, a pure heart Whatever it looks like I’m Yours Oh I'm Yours Search me and know me Oh God, investigate my life Reveal what’s broken Make it impossible to hide That You might lead me In all Your everlasting ways I choose to follow Every moment, every day Clean hands, a pure heart That’s what I’m longing for are Clean hands, a pure heart That’s what You’re asking for are Clean hands, a pure heart Whatever it looks like I’m Yours Oh I'm Yours Let this generation Tear down every idol And seek Your face To walk with You only And into the holy secret place Let this generation Tear down every idol And seek Your face To walk with You only And into the holy secret place Clean hands, a pure heart That’s what I’m longing for are Clean hands, a pure heart That’s what You’re asking for are Clean hands, a pure heart Whatever it looks like I’m Yours Oh I'm Yours Follow John: Instagram: @johnleslielong Tik Tok: @johnlongofficial