(Pat Alger/Ralph Murphy) Sometimes I stop on my way home And watch the children play And I wonder if they wonder What they'll be someday Some will dream a big dream And make it all come true While others go on dreaming Of things they'll never do We're all just seeds In God's hands We start the same But where we land Is sometimes fertile soil And sometimes sand We're all just seeds In God's hands I saw a friend the other day I hardly recognized He'd done a lot of living Since I'd last looked in his eyes He told his tale of how he'd failed The lessons he'd been taught But he offered no excuses And he left me with this thought We're all just seeds In God's hands We start the same But where we land Is sometimes fertile soil And sometimes sand We're all just seeds In God's hands As I'm standing at a crossroads once again I'm reminded we're all the same when we begin And in the end... We're all just seeds In God's hands We start the same But where we land Is sometimes fertile soil And sometimes sand We're all just seeds In God's hands We're all just seeds In God's hands
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