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Virtuoso

de David Phelps

A handful of dust
A worthless piece of clay
And You breathed the breath of heaven

Then there was a soul
The heart, the hands, the voice
That could sing of Your perfection

Life is a symphony that only You can play
You know I can hear it through the madness every day

Chorus
Virtuoso, Virtuoso
This heart is Your instrument
This life is Your song
Virtuoso

There isn't a note
Of mediocrity
In all Your creation

And all of the beauty
We create with human hands
Is only imitation

Thunder crashes, waves crescendo on the sand
The wind that's whispering can only be Your hand

Chorus
A timeless melody of beauty and emotion
Perfect harmony inspiring true devotion
No one else can play its chords
So graceful yet so strong
You made the instrument and wrote the song
Virtuoso

Chorus

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