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A quiet retelling of David’s rise and fall — a story of trust, pride, and the mercy that meets us when we return.
[Verse 1]
He was youngest, left unseen,
Shepherd boy with hands kept clean.
God saw more than what they knew—
Not in height, but heart that’s true.
[Chorus]
When he trusted, mountains moved,
Fields gave way to royal rooms.
God was near, his aim was right—
A sling, a stone, a holy fight.
[Verse 2]
He sang of love, he led with grace,
Spared the one who sought his place.
But when desire replaced the call,
He tried to rise—and chose to fall.
[Chorus]
When he trusted, mercy reigned,
But when he took, the sky turned gray.
From rooftops high to battles wrong,
His voice grew still, though once so strong.
[Bridge]
He tore his robe, he named his sin,
“Restore the joy I had within.”
And through the grief, the sword, the scar,
God still remained—not far, but far.
[Chorus (Final)]
When he trusted, songs would rise,
Through aching doubt and tear-stained eyes.
Not perfect, no—but still he learned:
The heart that yields is one God turns.
By The Mustard SeedA quiet retelling of David’s rise and fall — a story of trust, pride, and the mercy that meets us when we return.
[Verse 1]
He was youngest, left unseen,
Shepherd boy with hands kept clean.
God saw more than what they knew—
Not in height, but heart that’s true.
[Chorus]
When he trusted, mountains moved,
Fields gave way to royal rooms.
God was near, his aim was right—
A sling, a stone, a holy fight.
[Verse 2]
He sang of love, he led with grace,
Spared the one who sought his place.
But when desire replaced the call,
He tried to rise—and chose to fall.
[Chorus]
When he trusted, mercy reigned,
But when he took, the sky turned gray.
From rooftops high to battles wrong,
His voice grew still, though once so strong.
[Bridge]
He tore his robe, he named his sin,
“Restore the joy I had within.”
And through the grief, the sword, the scar,
God still remained—not far, but far.
[Chorus (Final)]
When he trusted, songs would rise,
Through aching doubt and tear-stained eyes.
Not perfect, no—but still he learned:
The heart that yields is one God turns.