Stan C. Countz
I’m not goin’ down; gonna rise to the top
I’m not messin’ around; I’m not gonna stop
Been lost, been found; been picked up and dropped
I’m down for the count but don’t write me off
Like a phoenix that rises from a heap of ashes
Or a plane that’s had one too many crashes
In spite of the odds, or the whims of the gods
The race isn’t made out of hundred yard dashes
It won’t be won by jumping the gun
‘Cuz not everyone who runs passes
We’ll win the race with love and grace
Though our sin makes us slow as molasses
This day, this time, we’re playin’ for keeps
Not for nickels and dimes, so read ‘em and weep
Whom Jesus saves, His grace will keep
He’s prepared a place at His wedding feast
What a man sows, one day he will reap
No man knows the goats from the sheep
Though the road is narrow and the climb is steep
The first will be last and we'll sit at His feet
Though greed and hate may never cease
We'll seek His face and speak our piece
If we trust His grace we’ll find release
So keep the faith and feed His sheep
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