As women we are powerful
Within the walls of home
For we within our fragile grasp
A mighty tool doth own

We use it every morning
We wield it through the day
It never ever leaves us
Upon our mundane way

A little daughter quivers
Beneath it's crushing blow
A brother, sister falters
For it hath laid them low

A line of devestation
Can lie within it's path
Both buried hope and laughter
A dreaded aftermath

But yet this sordid weapon
Can be a healing stream
Can be a source of comfort
The light of heaven's beam

What is the tongue within thee
Is it a gentle friend
To all who come across it
To which use doth it lend?

Ah tongue-to God I'll give thee
His servant to obey
So that 'tis only blessing
That flows upon your way