Well I prayed and I prayed, I prayed all night long,
I prayed and I prayed, until I found the Lord.
I cried and I cried, I cried all night long,
I cried and I cried, until I found the Lord.
I moaned and I moaned, I moaned all night long,
I moaned and I moaned, until I found the Lord.
My soul . . .
(This could be the day)
No my soul . . .
(This could be the day)
My soul Lord . . .
(This could be the day)
Until I found the Lord.
(repeat)
My bed was like a cold hard ground; my pillow made of stone.
I wrestled with the Angel; I would not let Him go.
I said to God to bless me or kill me with the sword;
I will not go, I'll never bow until I seek the Lord!
Well I prayed and I prayed, I prayed all night long,
I prayed and I prayed, until I found the Lord.
I cried and I cried . . .
My soul
(This could be the day)
Writer(s): Roberta Martin
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