Canticle of the Turning - Rory Cooney Chords

[Em] _ _ [G] _ _ [D] _ [Em] _ [C] _ [Em] _
_ _ My soul cries [C] out with a [D] joyful [G] shout, For the God of my [D] heart is great.
[Em] And my spirit [G] sings of the [D] wondrous [Em] things, That you [C] bring to the [Em] one to wait.
[G] You fixed your [D] sight on your servant's [C] plight, And by weakness you [D] did not slurrn.
[Em] So from east to [G] west shall my name be [Em] blessed, When the [C] world be [Em] about to turn.
[G] My heart shall [D] sing of the day you [G] bring, Of the fires of your [D] justice burn.
[Em] Wipe away all [C] tears, for the [D] dawn draws [G] near, And the [C] world is [Em] about to turn.
_ [G] _ [D] _ [C] _
_ [Em] _ _ _ Though I am small, my [D] God, my [Em] all, You worked great [D] things in me.
[Em] And your mercy will last from the [D] depths of the [C] past, To the [D] end of the [C] age to be.
[G] Your very [Bm] name was a crown to [Em] shame, And for those who would [Bm] war you yearn.
[C] You will show your [G] might, with the [D] strong to [Em] flect, For the world is about to turn.
[G] My heart shall [D] sing of the day you [Em] bring, Of the fires of your [D] justice [Em] burn.
Wipe away all [Cm] tears, for the [D] dawn draws [C] near, And the world is about to turn.
[G] _ _ [D] _
_ [Em] _ _ _ From the halls of power to the [D] fortress [Em] tower, Not a stone will be [D] left on stone.
[Em] Let the king beware, for your [Dm] justice [Em] tears Every [C] tyrant [Em] from his throne.
[G] The hungry [D] poor shall weep no [C] more, For the food they can [D] never earn.
[Em] Here are tables [G] spread, every mouth be fed, For the [C] world is [Em] about to turn.
My [G] heart shall [D] sing of the day you [Em] bring, Of the fires of your [D] justice burn.
[Em] Wipe away all tears, for the [A] dawn draws [Em] near, And the [C] world is [E] about to [G] turn.
_ _ [D] _
_ [Em] _ _ [D] _ _ [Em] _ _ [G] _
[D] _ [C] _ _ _ [Em] _ _ Though the nations rage from [Am] age to age, We remember who holds us fast.
[C]
God's mercy must deliver us, From the conqueror's rushing grasp.
[G]
This saving [D] word that our forebears [Em] heard, Is the promise which [D] holds us bound.
[Em] Till the spear and rod can be [D] crushed, Find [Em] out who is turning the world around.
[G] My heart shall [D] sing of the day you [Em] bring, Of the fires of your [D] justice burn.
[Em] Wipe away all tears, for the [D] dawn draws [Em] near, And the [C] world is [Em] about to turn.
[G] My heart shall [D] sing of the day you [C] bring, Of the fires of your [D] justice [Em] burn.
Wipe away all [C] tears, for the [D] dawn draws near, [Em] And the [C] world is about [Em] to turn.
_ _ [D] _ [Em] _ [C] _