Turn the lights on, look at what I have
See the twisted trophies of a dead man
Countless stories tell of sin and pain
But they sing the sweetness of my Savior’s grace
I’m a torn man, spirit fighting flesh
There’s a battle raging deep in my chest
And all that haunts me, all that leaves a stain
Only sings the sweetness of my Savior’s grace
A fortunate fall
My sins are stories of grace to recall
A fortunate fall
I glory in my sins forgiven
Jesus bought me, and now I am His
Dying with Him, in His death I now live
And all my vices, to which I was chained
Only speak the sweetness of my Savior’s grace
A fortunate fall
My sins are stories of grace to recall
A fortunate fall
I glory in my sins forgiven
And still I’m a wicked, wretched man
I do everything I hate
I am fighting to be God
I seethe and claw and thrash and shake
I have killed and stacked the dead
On a throne from which I reign
In the end I just want blood
And with His blood my hands are stained
See the God who reigns on high
He has opened His own veins
From His wounds a rushing torrent
That can wash it all away
Grace upon grace
Upon grace upon grace
Grace, oh!
Grace upon grace upon grace
Grace upon grace upon grace
Fall, it’s a fortunate fall