If I never get rich

If I never grow old 

Break down in a ditch 

If I thrive or lack 

Whether money in the bank 

Whether rags on my back 

It’s all to the glory of God 

I’ve worked on the rig 

I’ve worked in the fields 

Gave him my youth to the man 

And he won’t give it back 

But I’ll never complain 

About the wisdom it yields 

It’s all to the glory of God 

Good God I know that my heart and soul 

Has been bought by the blood and a carpenters life 

Calloused hands made the cross where he died 

Do it all to the glory of God

Well, I wake up tired 

And I go to bed hurt 

With a ragged voice 

I give thanks for the work 

If it weren’t for the Work

I’d be the devil’s ploy 

It’s all to the glory of God 

I’ve worked in kitchens 

And I’ve worked in shops 

I’ve worked digging ditches 

Though I’d rather not 

I’ve made trains 

made buildings 

made my back hurt a lot 

It’s all to the glory of God 



Good God I know that my heart and soul 

Has been bought by the blood and a carpenters life 

Calloused hands made the cross where he died 

Do it all to the glory of God

My old man’s worked 

Since he was a boy

Now he’s over the hill

But still employed

Just taking care of business 

by the sweat of his brow

It’s all to the glory of God 

If I never get rich 

If I never die old 

Breakdown in a ditch 

If I thrive or lack 

Wether money in the bank 

Whether rags on my back 

It’s all to the glory of God