What manner of God
Names His People warriors
Commands them into an exceedingly great army
Teaches their hands to war
And their fingers to fight
Yet, He still goes ahead of them
Makes every crooked path straight on their account
Causes the enemy to flee
Sinks the adversary's chariots into the mud
And frustrates every weapon in his arsenal
For all our training
He already won the battle
Crowning us victorious
Commanding us to beat our swords
Into plowshares
And the spears into pruning-hooks
There is no battle, no enemy
He did not already make a public spectacle of
And I asked why
And learnt that This God
Needs no assistance to win our fights
So we ought to sing instead
'Jehovah Nisi'
Jehovah Nisi, The Lord is our Banner
Traversing the streets and pathways
Singing, raising our Banner high
Transforming all the broken cities
Into Glorious Zion, His Holy City
His Beloved City, His favourite
That, as we march
With our Banner raised high
He continues to reveal
More battles already won
In the lives of His People
Triumphing yet again
Over the battle of a lack of knowledge
The reason you are a royal diadem
In the Hand of the Lord of Hosts
Is so you can cause men to turn
And perhaps, they can behold Him too.