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When my Lord takes up the Phone we talk things over he and I.
And he tells me not to worry. Not to Fret, too Much.
Not to Cry. I may be low through toil
and struggle, but I don't toil on or cry alone.
In my prayers he takes my heartache.
When my Lord takes up the Phone.
Sometimes I feel neglected. Sometimes so all alone.
As through this world I wander. With heavy heart. I stumble on.
Sometimes I lose direction.
Sometimes can't carry on till in prayer I ring the switchboard.
And my Lord picks up the phone.
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