Pulled in many directions
Pulled like a spider
Four legs over here
Four legs over there
This one man is everywhere
You would’ve thought he had bicycles for legs
Or wheels for feet
He’s always on the go
To sew his many seeds
So his garden of works will grow
He’s a human machine
Pumping imaginary iron
Getting more exercise
Than anyone I’ve ever seen in my life
He pushes himself to the max
Chops away with the spiritual ax
Works from the sweat of his brow
Grips his hand on the gospel plow
I look at him move and wonder how
Can anyone be that spry
He’s much older than I
And he’s a tumbleweed
Dropping and planting seeds
Along the way
So that he can reap
A harvest one day

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