When the best of my intentions Won't reach for their potential And the language of love Hesitates to leave my tongue I tire of trying to translate What I am to what should be No, the inside of this stained-glass cup Never really does seem to come clean So I stake out my pretenses And keep washing white these fences But the colors underneath them Keep showing through again I tire of trying to translate What I know to what I do Won't You scrub this dusty window Lord Let Your light get through When I come to You, I come clean Can't pretend to any good in me Wash me in Your love, I come clean So you cover me with Jesus And You see me just like He is And I am confident to tremble in Your presence once again When I come to You, I come clean Can't pretend to any good in me Wash me in Your blood, I come clean