Heirlooms sing and play along

Up in the attic,

down on my knees,

lifetimes of boxes to timeless to me.

Letters and photographs yellowed with years,

some bringing laughter,

He some bringing tears.

Time never changes the mem'ries, the faces of loved ones who bring to me telling all that I come from,

and all that I live for,

and all that I'm longing to be.

My precious fam'ly is more than an heirloom to me.

Wise men and shepherds,

down on their knees,

bringing their treasures to lay at His feet.

Who was this wontoder;

baby, yet King?

Living and dying,

He gave life to me.

Time never changes the mem'ry, the moment

His love first who pierced through me,

telling all that I come from,

and all that I live for,

and all that I'm longing to be.

My precious Savior is more than an heirloom to me.

me.

My precious Jesus is more than an heirloom to me.