An empty place here now stands, of a soul that was once called.
Long-suffering and patiently the Lamb did search and everywhere did plea.
But sparkling was the jewel that day that caught the wondering gent.
In darkness now does he grasp, thin air, never the prize to seize.
Once he laid his hold upon that treasured thing called dreams;
But hot to the touch, he held it only once, enticed even
more, the soul ran faster, never to look his way.
Only to the jewel made from paste where wishes makes the air hotter and gray.
Great tear drops of deepest compassion, does the Lamb stop by the place.
Heart broken for the one that He'll never get to save.
The Lamb, he shuts the gate and calls once again.
"Will you hear the Master's plea and come fill a place?"
"Many are called but few are chosen."