Once I sat in chamber high.
"A place at the table, dear Lord...a place at the table!".
But when asked there on high...I could not sit silent.
"A volunteer," He said, "we need a volunteer!".
He knew who it would be. He knew, it would be me.
To leave, I must.
This chamber, this retreat, this, my sanctuary complete!
To leave it all, my home, my comfort...I must. I must!
The look in His eyes, it was pure defeat.
He'd lost a good friend; for a long time to once a'gin meet.
Our relations changed, for never would he suspect, to give it all, for meager flyspeck.
But to give, I must, for the Master's plea!
Who am I, to judge one such as thee?
The Son, He lives, and lives so replete.
His food, it is, of pure, good soul. His way, it is, of pure good treat.
My way, is His. To give, and give.
And then when asked, by Father above. "What is your wish, for your service now done?".
"I wish to be free, My Father, the Son. I wish to be free, until done, is done.".
"And amble about, my creation you will?".
"Until that day, when we together will say,'Our time...stands still, and our council...is Won!' ".
Victory in thee, mon liege. Mine Own victory, It...Tis' in Thee!