Mack Brock - Do It Again Lyrics
Lyrics
[Mack Brock:] Walking around these walls I thought by now they'd fall But You have never failed me yet Waiting for change to come Knowing the battle's won For You have never failed me yet
Your promise still stands Great is Your faithfulness, faithfulness I'm still in Your hands This is my confidence, You've never failed me yet
[Rita Springer:] I know the night won't last Your Word will come to pass My heart will sing Your praise again Jesus, You're still enough Keep me within Your love My heart will sing Your praise again
[Mack Brock & Rita Springer:] Your promise still stands Great is Your faithfulness, faithfulness I'm still in Your hands This is my confidence, You've never failed Your promise still stands Great is Your faithfulness, faithfulness I'm still in Your hands This is my confidence, You've never failed me yet
Never failed me yet You don't fail, You don't fail Never once failed Never once failed
I've seen You move, You move the mountains And I believe, I'll see You do it again You made a way, where there was no way And I believe, I'll see You do it again I've seen You move, You move the mountains And I believe, I'll see You do it again You made a way, where there was no way And I believe, I'll see You do it again I've seen You move, You move the mountains And I believe, I'll see You do it again You made a way, where there was no way And I believe, I'll see You do it again! I'll see You do it again Come move the mountains, Jesus
[Mack Brock:] Your promise still stands Great is Your faithfulness, faithfulness But I'm still in Your hands This is my confidence, You've never failed me yet, oh no
[Rita Springer:] You won't fail, God
Video
Do It Again | Live | Elevation Worship
Meaning & Inspiration
There is a specific, quiet violence in the phrase "Walking around these walls / I thought by now they'd fall." It’s an admission of exhaustion disguised as a statement of faith.
When Mack Brock sings this, I don't hear a battle cry; I hear the rhythmic, dust-caked shuffle of someone who has been circling the same problem—a sickness, a strained marriage, a persistent silence from God—for far too long. We are taught to equate "waiting on the Lord" with a kind of serene, expectant peace. But in reality, walking around walls that refuse to crumble is a grueling, repetitive labor. The tension here lies in the gap between the geography of the promise and the reality of the stalemate.
You start out marching with the confidence of Joshua, expecting the trumpets to sound and the mortar to give way. But when the seventh day passes and the sun sets on the same stubborn barricade, something changes in the spirit. You realize that "never failing" might not mean "answering on my schedule."
It brings to mind Lamentations 3:22–23, the ancient anchor for this modern sentiment: "Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail." The author of Lamentations isn't writing from a place of victory; he’s sitting in the ashes of a destroyed city. He’s looking at literal rubble, not falling walls, yet he holds onto the constancy of God’s character as the only thing that didn't dissolve when his world did.
When I listen to this track, that little word "yet" catches in my throat. "You have never failed me yet." It’s a brave word, but it’s also a fragile one. It implies that there is still time for failure to happen. It acknowledges that the story isn't over, and frankly, we don't know the ending. To say "yet" is to stand in the mess of the present and commit to staying there, even if the walls don't move. It’s an admission that my definition of "success" and God’s definition of "faithfulness" might be two completely different things, and I have to choose which one I’m going to trust.
It feels honest, perhaps uncomfortably so. It’s the sound of someone refusing to let go of the hand they’re holding, even as they look at the obstacles that seem to mock their persistence. We keep walking, we keep singing, and we keep waiting, not because the walls have fallen, but because we’ve realized the person we’re walking with is the only thing that matters. It’s not a tidy resolution, but it’s a place to stand.