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First God made a flute of reed<br />
And blew a soulful melody<br />
Singing in ink of His need<br />
Of one note to plant as a seed<br />
That note’s the flute, the flute’s in you<br />
The world’s life-line’s a heart that’s true<br />
Through which all’s made and all’s made new<br />
Your soul’s a hole God’s blowing through<br />
The reed is weak and full of fear<br />
It shudders when the wind appears<br />
But when it’s plucked and hollowed out<br />
It can sing a king to tears<br />
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