All My Trials
If religion was a thing
That money could buy,
The rich would live
And the poor would die.
All my trials, Lord,
Will soon be over.
Too late my brothers,
Too late but never mind,
All my trials, Lord,
Will soon be over.
Go to sleep, my little baby,
And don’t you cry,
Your daddy was born
Just to live and die.
Oh I have a little book
That sets me free,
My bible, it spells
“Liberty”.
Yes, a man was born
To suffer agony,
His will to live
Spells “Victory”.
All Nations, Clap Your Hands
All nations, clap your hands,
Let shouts of triumph ring,
For mighty over all the lands
The Lord Most High is King.
Above our mighty foes
He gave us power to stand,
And as our heritage He chose
The goodly promised land.
With shouts ascends our King,
With trumpet’s stirring call;
Praise God, praise God, His praises sing,
For God is Lord of all.
O sing in joyful strains,
And make His glory known;
God over all the nations reigns,
And holy is His throne.
Our fathers’ God to own
The kings of earth draw nigh,
For none can save but God alone,
He is the Lord Most High.
