Andrew Peterson - Isnt it love

^D Lost my luggage out in^G Kalamazoo,^D same way I tend to lose my^G conscience, too. ^D Another day in these^G dirty old blues, and^A I don't seem to^G mind.^{Dsus4 D Dsus4 D D} This is a thing that co^Gnfounds me; You can^D find me; You^G surround and remind me. ^D I lose my way and I fo^Grget about You, but^A You still remember^G me.^{Dsus4 D}

^Dsus4 Oh, isn't it^D love? This^A rain that falls on the^Bm sinners and the saints?^G Isn't it^D love? This^A well that won't run^G dry? ^{Dsus4 D Dsus4 D}

^D And when I think about that^G prodigal son,^D I've got to smile when I see the^G old man run. ^D And I know that You^G love us the same, 'cause the^A sun came up^G today; ^D Just as if we d^Geserved it, just as^D if any one of us^G fools was worth it; ^D Truth is that we'll^G never be perfect, but You^A love us just the^G same.^{Dsus4 D}

^Dsus4 Oh, isn't it^D love? This^A rain that falls on the^Bm sinners and the saints^Dsus4? ^{D Dsus4 D} Isn't it^D love? This^A well that won't run^G dry?^{Dsus4 D Dsus4 D}Isn't it^Bm love^A, oh isn't it^G love^{A G A G}

^D Isn't it love to look^G down from the sky,^D and see Your only Son on the^G cross asking "Why?" ^D And somehow let Him^G die that way, and not^A call the whole thing^G off?^{Dsus4 D Dsus4 D D} All for this man stuck in^G Kalamazoo, who^D loses his bags and his^G way sometimes too. ^D But that was something that You^G already knew, and^A still You died for^G me^Dsus4. ^D

Isn't it love^G? Isn't it love^A? Isn't it^D love? This^A rain that falls on the^Bm sinners and the saint^Dsus4s? ^{D Dsus4 D} Isn't it^D love? This^A well that won't run^G dry?^{Dsus4 D Dsus4 D}

Isn't it^Bm love? His^A mercies are made^Dsus4 new every morning. Isn't it^G love? Isn't it^A love? And isn't it^D love?^{Dsus4 D Dsus4 D D Dsus4 D Dsus4 D}