I am your work, oh Lord a living stone.
Your vineyard's branch abiding in the vine.
The grape of which are pressed into new wine.
You planted me to be your tree alone,
And by the spirit's fruit I now am known.
A servant was born, so you assign,
Me labors in the fields which are not mine.
To harvest in the souls, You call Your own,
In many other ways, Lord I am Your's.
So many parables can be applied,
because your hands are open up the doors.
But those parables are laid aside,
As face to face with you, I yearn for more.
I come to you, I want to be on your side.
