Isn’t It Love

Lost my luggage in Kalamazoo
Same way I tend to lose my conscience, too
Another day in these dirty old blues, and I don't seem to mind
This is a thing that confounds me
You can find me; You surround and remind me
I lose my way and I forget about You
But You still remember me

Isn't it love?
The rain that falls on the sinner and the saint
Isn't it love?
The well that won't run dry
Isn't it love?
These mercies are made new every morning

And when I think about that prodigal son
I've got to smile when I see the old man run
And I know that You love us the same
'cause the sun came up today
Just as if we deserved it
Just as if every one of us fools was worth it
Truth is that we'll never be perfect, but You love us just the same

Isn't it love?
This ran that falls on the sinner and the saint
Isn't it love?
This well that won't run dry
Isn't it love?
These mercies are made new every morning

Isn't it love to look down from the sky
And see Your only Son on the cross asking why
And somehow let Him die that way
And not call the whole thing off
All for a man here in Kalamazoo
Who loses his bags and his way sometimes too
But that was something that You already knew
And still You died for me