Greg X. Volz The Carpenter
The Lord showed me David, called from the field,
From leading his sheep, a sword to wield,
To lift up a people whose burden was hard
and to walk in the way of God.
But I am a carpenter,
I am a workman in this town,
I am a man who lives here, but my time is coming
around.
A vision I’ve seen,
A lesson I’ve learned,
A path is before me,
A season has turned,
And this have I known from the opening of my eyes;
a seed has to die to be life.
But I am a carpenter,
I am a workman in this town,
I am a man who lives here, but my time is coming
around.
Father,
How long Father?
My mother I’ll leave,
My shop I shall board,
The strands of my soul weave tightly in a cord,
And Father, I pray that not one shall be lost,
Yes, for them, in joy I’ll pay the cost.
No longer a carpenter,
No longer a workman in this town,
No longer a man living here,
and my home is not on this ground,
No longer a carpenter,
No longer a workman in this town,
No longer a man living here,
and my home is not on this ground.
