♪ ♪ In the darkest part of Scotland, the darkest night of the year. I found a church where the
lights were dim, and sat down in the rear, And they sang about a baby – Angel voices filled that place. I could feel the love of Jesus, and the tears ran down my face. Jesus is in the water. Jesus is in the wine. Jesus is standing next to us in the noisy Starbucks line. Jesus is in Manhattan. Jesus is in St. Clair. He’s waiting around the corner – Jesus is everywhere. Jesus is everywhere. Jesus is everywhere. Jesus is everywhere. On a winding street in Venice, on the sunny side of town. Church bells ring out in San
Rocco so we went in and sat down. We forgot that it was Sunday. The priest was hard to
understand. But we heard the word for
“Jesus,” holding wafers in our hands. Jesus is in the water. Jesus is in the wine. Jesus is standing next to us in the noisy Starbucks line. Jesus is in Manhattan. Jesus is in St. Clair. He’s waiting around the corner – Jesus is everywhere. Jesus is everywhere. Jesus is everywhere. Jesus is everywhere. In the darkest hour of
nighttime, In the dark night of the soul, In the balmy heat of summer, In the bitter winter cold, In the halls of every mansion, In apartments where you sleep, You’ve never gone too far, and you’re never in too deep. Jesus is in the water. Jesus is in the wine. Jesus is standing next to us in the noisy Starbucks line. Jesus is in Manhattan. Jesus is in St. Clair. He’s waiting around the corner – Jesus is everywhere. Jesus is in the water. Jesus is in the wine. Jesus is standing next to us in the noisy Starbucks line. Jesus is in Manhattan. Jesus is in St. Clair. He’s waiting around the corner – Jesus is everywhere. Jesus is everywhere. Jesus is everywhere. Jesus is everywhere. Jesus is everywhere. Jesus is everywhere. Jesus is everywhere.