[Processional Chant] Woe is me, I am undone, My lips cannot bear what my eyes have become. The crown of a mortal king fell into dust, [Verse 1] Yet the throne beyond thrones stood blazing and just. Six wings veiled wonder; the thresholds replied, Holy rolled outward like thunder made light. A coal from the altar, a fire without fraud, [Chorus] Woe is me, I am undone, My lips cannot bear what my eyes have become. Touched guilt at the mouth before service to God. Then a question crossed smoke no empire could tame: [Silence] Who will carry this word through refusal and flame? [Verse 2] Not because the road was easy or the hearing was sure, But because the One who called had first made clean. Here am I in the echo, here am I in the cost, [Final Chorus] Woe is me, I am undone, My lips cannot bear what my eyes have become. Send me with the word until the holy seed is not lost.