Put my heart on like a glove,
Lead my feet where you will,
Along quiet streams with my beloved,
Facing arid desert and storm,
Though graveyard to vineyard,
I'd ask you why you love me so,
But the answer's always sung the same:
How could I not, my handiwork,
My child and chosen race?
For I am love and you are mine,
And so you shall remain.