There's a place where the stones are gathered
There's a place where the work is done
The blood, the sweat, and the tears of labor
A day of rest is soon to come
We are stones in the masters temple
We are jewels in the kings own crown
And the cries of the hammer and chisel
Not in heaven will you hear the sound
A carpenter, he's the master builder
He's the potter who's work has now begun
A broken soul in his hands to be fashioned
In the likeness of His own Son