The man at church who disagrees
Is in a place, lives differently.
For when grandchildren are your lot
And work from home, but not a lot
The sin you face has other flair
It's subtle, smaller, less of that
We face as day to day we are attacked
And younger, wilder passions fly
Our gestures grand, as charge we by
The day, and night exposed to sin
Hearts long that they might enter in
To what by grace of God they hate
But tempted, picture had their fate
Been other, far from godly change
Then would I ever put to shame
Those kids who sin half-hearted lame.

But here a proof
Can Grace be real?
Yes, if I who now stand aloof
Acknowledge sin's broad-vast appeal
And know that had I not been killed
My life would wholly be fulfilled
By awful, sick'ning things I see
Much more than men surrounding me.
And so, what else but common Grace
Binds "that which would" of our vile race?