Religion has carried us far through the years-
Picked cotten for the white man - shed many tears.
Kept them happy nothing else to live for-
They gave the master their best - he wanted more.
Worked all day, we did, from dust until dawn-
Tho' blistery hands - master shout "Boy work On!
You aint tired boy!- you think your works done?"
Look up boy! Don't you still see the sun!?"
As I looked up I heard my father calling me-
Said "The storm cloud will pass my child, you'll see.
Beat in our heads- we didn't have any doubt-
Sealed our praise with a with a Victory Shout!
I see the mother waiting for her child to come home-
Singing, "Precious Lord, please lead me on"
Just look at the child - tears fill his eyes-
Tries to find love-wants no compromise.
Look at the father who can't make ends meet-
Leaving his burdens all at Jesus' feet.
Jesus, way maker- nothing else for him to do-
Shouts! Because Jesus will bring him through.