Heaven
by Me
Heaven is a real place,
With streets of gold,
And pearly gates.
A river flows from God's throne,
Near it, is the tree of life,
There, the sun has never shone,
For God's glory fills it with light.
I refuse to speak more,
Of heaven's great splendor,
For its riches most assuredly,
Over time will tend to bore me.
See my Father is a gardener,
Who prunes off fruitless branches,
He's also a pardoner,
Who gave me many chances.
Maybe that will help explain,
I'll tell you without shame,
Heaven holds only one treasure,
For which my heart does pine,
That's the gem called Immanuel,
The one and only true vine.
by Me
Heaven is a real place,
With streets of gold,
And pearly gates.
A river flows from God's throne,
Near it, is the tree of life,
There, the sun has never shone,
For God's glory fills it with light.
I refuse to speak more,
Of heaven's great splendor,
For its riches most assuredly,
Over time will tend to bore me.
See my Father is a gardener,
Who prunes off fruitless branches,
He's also a pardoner,
Who gave me many chances.
Maybe that will help explain,
I'll tell you without shame,
Heaven holds only one treasure,
For which my heart does pine,
That's the gem called Immanuel,
The one and only true vine.