Life is the title of a movIe.
If the end is no good,
then go forth and take the I out.
If you see what I meAnt,
drop the A, men,
Satan slide out.
No slithering. In my house.
See the Message in my flick,
raise your hands, praise Jesus for the rain
on this long drought.
Press pause,
no more running from the fee.
Lock me in, store me up,
then hide away the key.
Don't ever let me out God,
until I ripen up
and good fruit gather 'round me.
Until I can claim all God,
don't let me speak.
Let me stay strong,
until they realize
that we're all weak.
Oh my God,
you really did this all week?
Then Sunday is when I take a break
and listen while your Son speaks.
But excuse me God,
Oh no,
I think my tongue leaks.
According to Him,
a star is what your will be.
So before I cross over,
the cross is what I will grieve.
Tell me what I might be,
show me what your might be.
I can't rewind,
but the mirror reflects
what my eyes see,
before I felt the light speed.
Jesus' wrists shows the time,
I'm broke in submission.
When I remember Him,
I can fast forward.
But if I talk back,
Satan leaves my leaves my cheek sore.
As I turn to face the Son,
I understand,
what the beating of my heart's for.
My blood is running,
just to turn the wheels
of His chair.
And if He stands up,
every show I ever saw here,
will be lifted up
and separated like a split hair.
If you're deep down and precious,
let the pressure push together all the good grain.
If you're standing on the rock,
and the heat is melting your frame,
you're in God's oven,
It's pure lovin', don't fight.
He'll take you out
when it's just right.
We're just dinner and movie,
watch me act and serve right.
.
If the end is no good,
then go forth and take the I out.
If you see what I meAnt,
drop the A, men,
Satan slide out.
No slithering. In my house.
See the Message in my flick,
raise your hands, praise Jesus for the rain
on this long drought.
Press pause,
no more running from the fee.
Lock me in, store me up,
then hide away the key.
Don't ever let me out God,
until I ripen up
and good fruit gather 'round me.
Until I can claim all God,
don't let me speak.
Let me stay strong,
until they realize
that we're all weak.
Oh my God,
you really did this all week?
Then Sunday is when I take a break
and listen while your Son speaks.
But excuse me God,
Oh no,
I think my tongue leaks.
According to Him,
a star is what your will be.
So before I cross over,
the cross is what I will grieve.
Tell me what I might be,
show me what your might be.
I can't rewind,
but the mirror reflects
what my eyes see,
before I felt the light speed.
Jesus' wrists shows the time,
I'm broke in submission.
When I remember Him,
I can fast forward.
But if I talk back,
Satan leaves my leaves my cheek sore.
As I turn to face the Son,
I understand,
what the beating of my heart's for.
My blood is running,
just to turn the wheels
of His chair.
And if He stands up,
every show I ever saw here,
will be lifted up
and separated like a split hair.
If you're deep down and precious,
let the pressure push together all the good grain.
If you're standing on the rock,
and the heat is melting your frame,
you're in God's oven,
It's pure lovin', don't fight.
He'll take you out
when it's just right.
We're just dinner and movie,
watch me act and serve right.
.
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