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A farmer spends his day |
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planting rose and planting seeds |
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And come october he knows |
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what will grow |
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It's been that way since time again |
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And it will never change |
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You will always reap just what you sow |
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My life is made of seeds |
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Everyone I plant becomes part of me |
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Good or bad ones |
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I must choose |
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And I shoukd think about the future |
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when I do |
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Cause ehen my harvest finally comes |
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I will reap what I've become |
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Have you ever seen type of street |
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A priceless work of art |
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And seen how every color |
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plays a role |
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Every thread is woven carefully |
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In to it's proper place |
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Unto the masterpieces is finally whole |
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My life is made of threads |
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Everyone I sow should be my best |
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Good or bad ones |
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I must choose |
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And I should think about the |
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future when I do |
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Cause when the type of street is done |
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My masterpiece will be |
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What I've become |
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I will stand before the savior |
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When this life comes to an end |
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Will the seeds I sow make me |
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more like Him |
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My life is made of seeds |
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Everyone I've plant becomes part of me |
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Good or bad ones |
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I must choose |
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And I should think about the future |
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when I do |
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Cause when the harvest finally comes |
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I will reap what I've become |
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I Will Reap What I've Become |
