Lord if I'm the clay then I've been left out in the sun
Cracked and dry, like mud from the sky
Still clinging to the prodigal sun

But I'm on my way back home
Yes I'm on my way back home

Into the hands
That made the wine from the water
Into the hands
The hands of the Potter

Lord if I'm the clay that let your living water flow
Soften up my edges Lord
So everyone will know

That I'm on my way back home
Yes I'm on my way back home

And Lord when you listen for the song of my life
Let it be, let it be, a song so sweet
Let it be, let it be, a song so sweet
Let it be, let it be, a song so sweet, let it be

Lord if I'm the clay then lay me down
On your spinning wheel
Shape me into something you can fill
With something real

And I'll be on my way back home
Yes I'm on my way back home

words and music by Randall Goodgame

Behind the Song:
"This song was born out of the first line. I was thinking about what it means to be “the clay,” and the line just came to me. Everything else just followed along. It’s really just a song about coming home to the Father in Heaven. We are strangers in a strange land, and when we confuse this place with our real home, that seems to cause us some problems. ’Till we make it to heaven, we will be most at home when we find ourselves in “the hands of The Potter.”" - Randall Goodgame