Let me out from this house, I want the wind in my hair.
The nearness to a window is no longer a sufficient sun.
I'm sick of this vase telling me how deep my roots can reach.
It only gives me as much as it can hold for me to drink.
And I say,
Come my way, come my way, I want you to,
Set me free, set me free. I am a wildflower.
Our lives required a windowsill and soil and a flowerpot.
I won't be satisfied until my form of godliness requires God.
I'll watch the empire of your kindness
As it outshines the sun up in the sky.
We'll worship with our minds
And finally worship with our lives.
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