The Lord showed me David, called from the field,
From leading his sheep, a sword to wield,
To lift up a people whose burden was hard
and to walk in the way of God.

But I am a carpenter,
I am a workman in this town,
I am a man who lives here, but my time is coming around.

A vision I've seen,
A lesson I've learned,
A path is before me,
A season has turned,
And this have I known from the opening of my eyes;
a seed has to die to be life.

But I am a carpenter,
I am a workman in this town,
I am a man who lives here, but my time is coming around.

Father,
How long Father?

My mother I'll leave,
My shop I shall board,
The strands of my soul weave tightly in a cord,
And Father, I pray that not one shall be lost,
Yes, for them, in joy I'll pay the cost.

No longer a carpenter,
No longer a workman in this town,
No longer a man living here,
and my home is not on this ground,
No longer a carpenter,
No longer a workman in this town,
No longer a man living here,
and my home is not on this ground.

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