This pen it writes all by itself
This song it sings..Alone it swells.
The words create a lonesome verse
Its speech is pure and not perverse.
It writes of God, his grace and peace
The words they flow they never cease.
For when it’s done and done I say,
Will you be ready for that day?
How does it cease, for you end well?
Two choices alone, Heaven or Hell.
To wait till death will never do,
This pen writes NOW, make all things new.
This ink it flows across this page,
Like Jesus’ blood to cleanse all age.
I cannot stop the pen has chose,
Of Jesus love the words compose.
But now lay down this pen is done,
The work complete like God’s own Son.
This pen writes words all by itself,
Its choice is Jesus and eternity’s wealth.