I search through my treasures but find filthy rags, O my God I have nothing to bring,
To return to Your Majesty seated on high of the love that you've given to me.
So I come to the river that flows from your throne, and I bow on my knees and I drink. I drink.
I drink of the water that flows from the Father, the Son, and the Spirit of glory and grace,
And I long for the day when alone by Your mercy, I will stand upright and look on Your face.
O come ye who labour and are heavy laden and you will find rest to your souls.
Don't come with an offering of fleshly ambition, that's only a bag full of holes.
This can't be bought by the works of your hands, and you cannot will it to be.
Just come to that river that flows from His throne, and bow on your knees and just drink. Just drink.
Just drink of the water that flows from the Father, the Son, and the Spirit of glory and grace,
And you'll long for the day when alone by His mercy, you will stand upright and look on His face.
Chorus repeats::