Come, let's shout praises to God, raise the roof for the Rock who saved us!
Let's march into his presence singing praises, lifting the rafters with our hymns!
And why? Because God is the best, High King over all the gods.
In one hand he holds deep caves and caverns, in the other hand grasps the high mountains.
He made Ocean - he owns it! His hands sculpted Earth!
So come, let us worship: bow before him, on your knees before God, who made us!
Oh yes, he's our God, and we're the people he pastures, the flock he feeds. Drop everything and listen, listen as he speaks:
"Don't turn a deaf ear as in the Bitter Uprising, As on the day of the Wilderness Test,
when your ancestors turned and put me to the test.
For forty years they watched me at work among them, as over and over they tried my patience. And I was provoked - oh, was I provoked! 'Can't they keep their minds on God for five minutes? Do they simply refuse to walk down my road?'
Exasperated, I exploded, 'They'll never get where they're headed, never be able to sit down and rest.'"