Our village is now wiped out. By God's grace I'm still alive.

Everything was buried. All the people are gone.

Our village is gone; everything was buried in mud. All the people are gone.

Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue.

Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue.

For to do things with care is the closest thing to love that I know the cape of grace falling softly about the shoulders as we focus on the task at hand whether it be to listen or to leave or to learn.