Time . . . time has never put Him in a bind; He's never jumped the gun, never been behind
His precision does not come by whim; eternity is set by Him
Plans . . . plans of mice and men will not prevail; all is made to serve His each detail
His desires and ours will never blend, flesh and blood cannot comprehend
And He's hard to hold
You can't conform Him to your mold
And He's hard to hold
He is the "Ancient of Old"!
Truth . . . truth cannot be used to tie Him down; His Spirit passes still without a sound
How much of what we claim hangs from a limb? True wisdom doesn't shrink . . . it magnifies Him
And He's hard to hold
Your can't conform Him to your mold
And He's hard to hold
He is the "Ancient of Old"!
©1994-2003 Jim Minker & "shovel-productions"
words and music written by Jim Minker 1994
