V1: Laid upon the dashboard, of his old pickup truck. Or stuffed down in the pocket, of his short sleeve button up. I've seen it in his toolbox, beside the tractor seat. Wherever he was working, he kept it within reach. It was he trusted companion, it was a rock and his best friend. It was a truth, it was a light, when the path grew dim, and he carried it because it carried him.
V2: It carried him in strength, when he was tired and down. It carried him with hope, when hope could not be found. And when his love lay helpless, and he knew it was goodbye; it promised him eternity and peace for when he cried.
Bridge: He read it every day, took it everywhere he went. And he beamed when he held that weathered, worn out testament.
