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Oh, come inside this head,
And see the buzzing brain,
Observe the urgent tread,
The product of much pain.

Inside this head you'll see
The Leader of the parts-
And, the seat of irony,
For it hasn't any smarts.

This brain controls the body,
At breakneck speed it does.
That's why it's rather spotty-
It's rash, well, just because.

Listen to its barking,
"The program to the fore!"
The time it's always marking,
"Rest not, for there is more!"

"Come on, you guys!
Enough's not enough!
You've rested eyes,
Now do your stuff!"

"And you, old heart,
We need more blood!
Oh, stomach part-
Digest this crud!"

"Move you arm!
There's more to do.
What's the harm
In being through?"

"And come on, leg,
Respond to the head.
I've ignored your beg
That you're half-dead!"

"Oh, speak dear tongue,
And move, Oh lips,
Give wind left lung,
Be still thou hips!"

"This I say
On behalf of all,
Doing more is the way
To fulfill the Call."

But the eyes became dull,
And the heart began to fail,
The spirit was almost null,
The head grew very pale.

Panic gripped the brain,
"New program to the fore!
Rest is in the main,
Before we are no more!"

But the program really seized,
And the fever really rose,
The nose really sneezed,
And the body really froze.

Now me, I'm just a toe,
But I'd really like to know:
Is there anything to show
For the pain we've had to sow?

More and more and more
Can never be enough,
For more will rob us poor
And leave us feeling rough.

Now if Christ be our Head,
Will He work us 'til we're dead,
While serving, just a dread,
Or give us rest instead?

The moral of the story
Is simple if you see:
Christ must get the glory,
Through grace comes victory!

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