Crowns made to throw, ointment to waste
Temples not made of stone, in garments of praise
Praise the Lord Oh my soul

Children of the flame casting crowns before him
And I worship like a lion pursuing its prey
And I worship I wonâ??t let you get away

And I worship like it was the last day
To worship You
Sounds of Heaven and Earth ashes and dust

Angels rise up and swirl in their rite of love
And then the sky opens up
And the rain comes down on every crown on the ground

Then you come like a hurricane
like a wheel within a wheel
Higher there is no name

For worthy is the Lamb of God to break open every seal
Crown him with many crowns the Lamb upon his throne,
heavenly anthems drown

All music but their own.
Awake, my soul, and sing
Of him who died for thee,

Hail him thy matchless King