Empty-handed

Not what my hands have done
Can save my guilty soul;
Not what my toiling flesh has borne
Can make my spirit whole.
Not what I feel or do
Can give me peace with God;
Not all my prayers and sighs and tears
Can bear my awful load.

These guilty hands are raised;
Filthy rags are all I bring
And I have come
To hide beneath your wings.
These holy hands are raised
Washed in the fountain of your grace;
And now I wear your righteousness.

Thy grace alone, O God,
To me can pardon speak;
Thy power alone O Lamb of God,
Can this sore bondage break.
No other work, save Thine,
No other blood will do,
No strength but that,
Which is divine,
Can bear me safely through.

These guilty hands are raised;
Filthy rags are all I bring
And I have come
To hide beneath your wings.
These holy hands are raised
Washed in the fountain of your grace;
And now I wear your righteousness.

I praise the God of grace,
I trust His truth and might
He calls me His, I call Him mine,
My God, my joy, my light
My Lord has saved my life,
And freely pardon gives
I love because
He first loved me,
I live because He lives!

Words by Horatio Bonar (1861)
Chorus by Aaron Keyes (2009)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0YspjfdGGWk