Take us to a place, where envy ceases to be green,
and tears of joy upon a face, blue no longer from pain it's seen.
Where bruising hearts of purple never happens,
grey the strength of stone that never dies,
and the colour red covers all our sins and blacks out our failing eyes.

Yellow of the sick, and sadness of one’s diseased,
now shining from the touch of God who’s own skin was made to bleed.
Lost upon a path, filled with sin that’s stained us brown,
washed in his bath, made clean as dust, he formed us from the ground.

Regrets of shameful behaviour, and the fear of future failure,
becomes old metal cages that melt to silver riches of our saviour.
And the hot pink of lust, with deep orange s*xual rust-fashion
fades between the shades as he paints us with his passion.

Restoration take us over, our lives as white canvas for his throne,
the gold that so corrupts us, he’d use to now build his home.
May the royal colours of his robe, replace our diluted dye
God clothe us and keep us close, be the rainbow in our sky.