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Come, let's shout praises to God, raise the roof for the Rock who saved us!
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Let's march into his presence singing praises, lifting the rafters with our hymns!
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And why? Because God is the best, High King over all the gods.
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In one hand he holds deep caves and caverns, in the other hand grasps the high mountains.
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He made Ocean - he owns it! His hands sculpted Earth!
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So come, let us worship: bow before him, on your knees before God, who made us!
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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:
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"Don't turn a deaf ear as in the Bitter Uprising, As on the day of the Wilderness Test,
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when your ancestors turned and put me to the test.
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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?'
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Exasperated, I exploded, 'They'll never get where they're headed, never be able to sit down and rest.'"