Shulamite's Room Lyrics

What if death was a door?

Would I open it more often?

The veil between, though very dark, is very thin

What if peace was in rest?

Would I assemble my coffin,

And go sailing through the moonlight round the bend?

Could a hand reach out to me,

And lead me through the dark?

For my life has faded all into a dream

And crawling long, I grope

As forgiveness cries out "hope!"

And the graves of ancients lift their voice to sing

For the blood of Jesus Christ

Tastes like the sweetest wine

And so much more when I am pressed unto my end

The wailing at the walls

All my castles fall

And wash away in waves for they were not but sand

For I built my heart like Jericho

To guard my precious things

And I plastered all my walls

With some form of flattery

Sanctimony, complacency

Became my king and queen

And alas, my trees are robbed of fruit

And stripped bare of every leaf

What is left but satin beds

To wrap me in the red

To hide me in the womb

That I might rest a sweetest rest?

Could not mercy marry truth

And save me from myself?

For the pursuit of my own heaven

Has but left me in my hell

Pour the wine

Break the bread

The oil running down his head

This is for his burial

This is for his death

Spill the blood

Tear the flesh

The alabaster breaks again

This is for my burial

This is for my death

David, my king, my sword and my sun

Bathsheba, my vessel, my moon

Child of wisdom, beloved of both

Stands at the Shulamite's room

Knocking

Knocking

Open thy door