Lyrics

[Intro]
Before the wheel had a wheel...
Before the flame had a name...
Before the throne had a witness...
I was the Weight that held the weightless in place.
And I still got the towel.
ANNUUNNAKKIIIIIIIIII!

[HOOK]

[Main voice pitched down, stretched, ghost doubles overlapping. Each dash represents a hard chop.]
Still wash feet while I climb that climb...
(Climb that—climb that—climb that climb...)
Still—still wash feet—while I climb that climb...
(Wash feet—wash feet—climb, climb, climb...)
Still wash feet while I climb that climb...
(Still—still—still—still...)
Wash—wash—feet—feet—
Climb that—climb that—climb that climb...
STILL WASH FEET WHILE I CLIMB THAT CLIMB.

[VERSE 1]
I was the Word when the wavelength was waiting for language,
The Breath in the blank where the boundaries hadn't been painted,
The Flame in the frame before matter was married to motion,
The Face of the Father made flesh in the fabric of oceans.
I didn't descend 'cause the heavens had failed to contain Me,
I stepped into dust so the dust could remember who named Me,
I folded infinity down into infant dimensions,
Put eternity's pulse in a womb beyond human inventions.
No palace, no pageant, no platinum crown for the entrance,
Just straw in a manger and stars rearranging their sentence,
The architects studied the heavens and missed the Foundation,
While shepherds were hearing the sound of the first restoration.
I walked through the wilderness wearing the weight of the ages,
With scripture like thunder and hunger that couldn't persuade Me,
The serpent was selling Me kingdoms I authored in silence,
I answered with truth and dismantled the market of violence.
You offered Me height? I invented the axis of rising,
You offered Me bread? I'm the Manna the wilderness hides in,
You offered Me power? I govern the pulse of your breathing,
But power without love is a throne with the Father not seated.

[HOOK ]
Still wash feet while I climb that climb...
(Climb that—climb that—climb that climb...)
Still—still wash feet—while I climb that climb...
(Wash feet—wash feet—climb, climb, climb...)
Still wash feet while I climb that climb...
Still wash feet while I climb that climb...
(Climb that—climb that—climb that climb...)
Still—still wash feet—while I climb that climb...
(Wash feet—wash feet—climb, climb, climb...)
Still wash feet while I climb that climb...

[Verse 2]
Now don't call My kingdom an empire with better intentions,
I didn't defeat death to sanctify earthly oppression,
The cross is the judgment of power that feeds on the powerless,
The empty tomb proves that the meek aren't abandoned to nothingness.
And don't turn My name into armor for conquering nations,
Or package My mercy as merchandise priced for the famous,
The poor are not props for a sermon on heavenly riches,
I stand with the hungry and hear what the privileged dismisses.
The least are not ladders for climbing to spiritual status,
The wounded aren't numbers to tally in kingdoms of madness,
Whatever you do to the least, you are doing before Me,
So don't speak of heaven while stepping on those I call holy.
The wheel within wheels can keep turning, the cherubim blazing,
The sapphire-like throne can keep shining beyond calculation,
But none of that glory can cancel the truth of My mission:
The King is revealed in the towel, the cross, and compassion.
The higher I rise, the more deeply My mercy descends,
The first and the last, the beginning that holds every end,
The throne and the towel are not opposites fighting for time—
I STILL WASH FEET WHILE I CLIMB THAT CLIMB.

[HOOK ]
Still wash feet while I climb that climb...
(Climb that—climb that—climb that climb...)
Still—still wash feet—while I climb that climb...
(Wash feet—wash feet—climb, climb, climb...)
Still wash feet while I climb that climb...