| The valley is wide and the canyons are deep
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| For a harvest is ready of that which to reap
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| Many before grabbed a sickle to shear
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| But their days have past and your time is near
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| So listen to me and heed my words see
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| The world will tell you
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| that we are foolish
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| My words are not of simple flesh and blood
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| My words are not of simple flesh and blood
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| There is a famine of truth and love
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| So we must press forward, forget what’s behind
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| But still we must go and advance His Word
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| But still we must go We must go now!
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| We must go now!
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| No looking back we press on No looking back we press on to the kingdom of God
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| Have our hands worked the fields for Your glory?
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| Or have our tongues spoken of Your story?
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| Have our feet seen the pain in the labor?
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| Or have we wandered off and wavered?
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| Racing the clock with our selfish involvement
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| Pacing our walk till the sun falls, the day’s spent
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| Have the stalks seen the blade of your sheer?
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| And will you labor and work for your rest, rest is near?
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| If only I can see things through Your eyes
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| Ignite in me a burning flame
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| Forsaken life I count it as loss for the sake of the cross
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| Before the sun goes down
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| Before the coming of night
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| One will have I, and testament I will observe
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| One will have I, and testament I will
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| I will serve
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| Have our hearts felt the anguish of toil?
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| Or worked the ground tiling broken soil?
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| Have our eyes seen the joy in the reaping?
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| Or have we shied from our work with our sleeping?
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| Racing the clock with our selfish involvement
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| Pacing our walk till the sun falls, the day’s spent
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| Have the stalks seen the blade of your sheer?
|
| And will you labor and work for your rest, rest is near?
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| If only I can see things through Your eyes
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| Ignite in me a burning flame
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| Forsaken life I count it as loss for the sake of the cross
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| Before the sun goes down
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| My family as one unite
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| The time is ever nearing as we’re losing daylight
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| So listen to me and heed my words see
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| The world will tell you that we are foolish
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| Hear you now the Master’s voice it calls
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| Hear you now the Master’s voice it calls
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| «The harvest is plenty, the workers are few!» |