Resting in the Cross

(Verse 1)
There's a river running crimson through the ages,
Where the Lamb was slain and every debt was paid,
Some are drowning, reaching upward through the waters,
While others float on grace that bears their weight.
(Verse 2)
I've seen pilgrims climbing mountains in the distance,
Building altars with their hands worn to the bone,
While the mystery whispers softly through the silence—
"Child, the work is done, just rest and come on home."
(Chorus)
You can't stand with one foot on Calvary's hill,
And the other on the ladder you've been climbing still,
Either sink into the depths of what He's done,
Or exhaust yourself beneath a burning sun,
There's a line between the resting and the striving,
Between the gift received and wages earned,
You're either trusting in the fountain overflowing,
Or dying of thirst with lessons never learned.
(Verse 3)
Paul saw lightning on the Damascus road one morning,
Heard the voice of grace when all he'd known was law,
He traded all his righteousness like filthy rags of warning,
For the riches found in Christ—and nothing more.
(Bridge)
So lay your burdens down beside the tree,
Where thorns became a crown and death set captives free,
The veil is torn, the door stands open wide,
No ladder tall enough could reach the other side.
(Final Chorus)
No, you can't stand with one foot on Calvary's ground,
And the other on the treadmill spinning round,
Either dive into the ocean of His grace,
Or keep running in an endless, breathless race,
There's a line drawn in the sand by revelation,
Between the mystery and what was known before,
You're either anchored in the finished work of Jesus,
Or building ships that never leave the shore.
(Outro)
So I'm resting in the river running red,
Floating on the truth that Jesus bled and said,
"It is finished"—and Paul declared it true,
Salvation's work complete, there's nothing left to do.

Americana folk someviolin country style 
Feeling revelation to victory