The runners are lining up
They are eager to run the race
And the way that is before them
Spreads out before their view
With the starter standing tall
With gun in hand to fire
We wait with hand on heart
For the runners to do their part.
With the sound of the firing gun
The runners are off so hard
And breathing hard they reach the pass
And down the winding track
But as they straggle out so long
The course their legs are running
We wonder who will be the one
Upon who will win the prize.
So with the race of life
We each must do our part
For no one else can take our place
We each must run our race
So take the hand that's eager
And willing to see you through
For He alone can guide you
He alone will bring you home.
