Broken, bitter, bruised we come, needing presence, knowing none. Angry, hurting heart and mind, praying God is just and kind. Unbelieving, still we come, bodies aching, spirits numb; back to God, our only home, bringing all, we come, we come. Empty, waiting to be fed; first the water, then the bread and the wine, God's offering: Jesus Christ, the living spring. Jesus, where else could we go? Your love is the love we know, yours the way through age and youth, yours the words of love and truth. As the ages come and go, lives to you, like rivers, flow: those who doubt and those who know, nonetheless will find it so.