I’m not the saint folks think I am, I might as well confess;
There’s many times I’m so ashamed of my unworthiness:
I wish I were a perfect man, and had no faults or sin:
And be like other saints I hear who all the victories win:
And yet I wonder if it’s true, when God looks from above:
If He can find one saint on earth without one sin — to love?
Or, are most people just like me, and need a lot of grace;
And need forgiveness every time, when they would seek His face?
I think if we were honest folk, we might as well confess
There’s many times we’re all ashamed, of our unworthiness:
And when we stand before His face, I’m sure we all will say:
“We’re not the saints folks think we are, forgive us Lord, we pray.