Travail - Overcome

My hands are bloodied, my skin is calloused

I’ve labored and I’ve toiled

This yoke upon my neck, the restraints on my wrists

Were placed by my own hands

This stone I’ve carried, that I have burdened for

Was lifted from my arms

You have circumcised my heart

You have refused my bribery

What is offered cannot be procured

It is the free gift of God

For I have become like one who is unclean, in my travail

And all my righteous deeds are like filthy rags

And I will wither like the autumn leaf

My iniquities, like the wind, will cast me away

Come to me all ye weary and heavy laden

And I will give you rest

I’ll give you rest