My father's father worked this land For many years, I took my stand But the plow is so heavy, And I can't hold on To the legacy of the farmer's son I'll remember the days, with the sun on the land Wiping sweat my brow, with a rough callused hand And the smell of the ground, freshly broken and clean Made by one who still gives, broken heart new dreams Oh Lord who uses, broken things Who through broken clouds, gives us sweet, sweet rain Who gives us breath, from broken grains Oh Lord make me stronger, through broken things Give me what I need, not what I demand Send me heaven filled hopes, not Earth made plans But the plow is so heavy, and I can't hold on Oh father who cares, fill my heart with this song Oh Lord who uses, broken things Who through broken clouds, gives us sweet, sweet rain Who gives us breath, from broken grains Oh Lord make me stronger, through broken things Oh Lord make me stronger, through broken things