Rolling rivers, Giant timbers
Of oaks, a place to build
On a rock by the hill of hope
From His hands the rivers flow
A spiritual place to grow
Where seeds we throw
Become a harvest to know
He is with you
It’s true
where graves of dead men are raised
The gate unseen but paved
For you and me
Where faith breaks through
The gate is seen
And your redeemed
It’s a secret place
Where one goes to find grace
Where weeds turn to wheat
And the field of despair
Turns to an orchard declared
By Him
Where all seemed lost
Until He claimed the cost
Of your soul
Where your true beauty unfoldS
From the lies that where told
In the desert
But now your here
so open your heart my dear
Enter the promise land

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