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My father's father worked this land
For many years, I took my stand
But the plow is so heavy, And I can't hold on
To the legacy of the farmer's son
I'll remember the days, with the sun on the land
Wiping sweat my brow, with a rough callused hand
And the smell of the ground, freshly broken and clean
Made by one who still gives, broken heart new dreams
Oh Lord who uses, broken things
Who through broken clouds, gives us sweet, sweet rain
Who gives us breath, from broken grains
Oh Lord make me stronger, through broken things
Give me what I need, not what I demand
Send me heaven filled hopes, not Earth made plans
But the plow is so heavy, and I can't hold on
Oh father who cares, fill my heart with this song
Oh Lord who uses, broken things
Who through broken clouds, gives us sweet, sweet rain
Who gives us breath, from broken grains
Oh Lord make me stronger, through broken things
Oh Lord make me stronger, through broken things