First, you swing high and, then, you swing low.
This is the way your life will go.
When you swing high, you find glory there.
Down in the valley you find only despair.
With all the joys, with all days of pain.
The clock keeps on swinging again and again.
Swinging as high as the stars and as free,
Backward and forward through eternity,
Time is soon ending and some do not care
That death is now waiting for them over there.
The time they have wasted, the time they have lost
Is posted in heaven. They must pay the cost.
The clock, started swinging in the long, long ago,
Still swings them up high or swings them down low.
Text of Hymn: "Time Clock," © Icie E. Sandy Rowand, 2002, all rights reserved.
Web page design and original graphics © Betty Sandy Smith, all rights reserved.