Rich MullinsFirst Corinthians 9:24-27Here is my heart take what you want'Cause I have no use for it anywayWell of all the stupid things I've ever saidThis could be the worst may be the bestBut those are the breaksThese are the bruisesAnd if I can't give myself away I'm the only one who losesAnd I don't want to lose thisIt is the sea that makes the sailorAnd the land that shapes the seaAnd I do not know yet what I am made ofOr all I may someday beAnd it is the wood that makes a carpenterIt's the very tools of his tradeAnd it is love that makes a loverAnd a cross that makes a saintHere is my song, listen if you willBut I have no heart for it anymoreI just have half a mind to cut it looseAnd if it sails off into the blueThen I'll just let it soarAnd the sky is better keepingAnd I won't be any poorerFor giving it its freedomAnd here's one for freedomIt is the sea that makes the sailorAnd the land that shapes the seaAnd I do not know yet what I am made ofOr all I may someday beIt is the wood that makes a carpenterIt's the very tools of his tradeAnd it is love that makes a loverAnd a cross that makes a saintWell, of all the stupid things I've ever saidThis could be the worst may be the bestBut those are the breaks

 

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