It must come from the one place
that no one has ever seen
somewhere between the earth and heaven
there is a junk yard in between
It must be old junk metal
once restricting and so cold
that God collects and with his touch
turns to the purest gold
Collected from the people that
had movements that were bound
and even though they smiled a lot
their eyes still showed the frown
Made of braces, canes, and walkers
so many wheelchairs you would see
from people who still moved by faith
so God had set them free
