My tongue is the pen
Of a ready writer
My pen is the instrument
of a speaking God
He gently whispers
Of grace and forgiveness
Of mercy unending
And perfect love
He sings with rejoicing
Of victory and triumph
Of the wonders of heaven
And glory above
He thunders unceasing
Of honor and majesty
Of power unyielding
And holiness divine
So I pick up my pen
My heart full of fire
Words fall like raindrops
From lips immortal
My tongue is the pen
Of a ready writer
My pen is the instrument
Of a speaking God
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