Kite

A piece of paper lying all alone, in a tray.
No one even notices that the wind moves it away.
It's blowing through the window, to the world outside.
Out to all the danger in the world it glides.
But put the paper on a cross attached to a line.
And give it to the master, I know he won't decline.

See the KITE up there, blowing with the wind.
Held by safe hands, from the master on the ground.
No matter where the wind turns, he will hold on to the string. He'll never let the KITE go, for heaven it is bound.

The paper gets a new life, attached to the cross.
From he who was predicted, to suffer the loss.
The master holds the line, and he will never let it go.
No matter where the wind blows our master has the control.

See the KITE up...

This story about the Kite is how I want my life to be.
Never fly to far away from he who holds the line.
He'll hold the kite so close that we feel his touch
He gave his life for us, he loves us so much.
He'll let the kite fly, yet holds it in his hands.
He'll always keep it close it's in his masterplan.
He'll always keep it close it's in his masterplan.

See the KITE up...

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