| O humble carpenter, down on Your hands and knees
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| Look on Your handiwork and build a house
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| So You may dwell in me
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| So You may dwell in me
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| The work was done with nothing but
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| Wood and nails in Your scar-borne hands
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| O show me how to work and praise
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| Trusting that I am Your instrument
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| O loving laborer with the sweat upon Your face
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| Oh, build a table that I too may join You
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| In the Father’s place
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| Oh, in the Father’s place
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| The work was done with nothing but
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| Wood and nails in Your scar-borne hands
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| O show me how to work and praise
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| Trusting that I am Your instrument
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| The kingdom’s come and built upon
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| Wood and nails gripped with joyfulness
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| So send me out, within Your ways
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| Knowing that the task is finished
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| The dead will rise and give You praise
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| Wood and nails will not hold them down
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| These wooden tombs, we’ll break them soon
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| And fashion them into flower beds
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| The curse is done, the battle won
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| Swords bent down into plowshares
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| Your scar-borne hands, we’ll join with them
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| Serving at the table You’ve prepared
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| O humble carpenter |