Vaso de Barro

I'm a pot, a clay pot
In the hands of the potter to be used
I'm a pot, a clay pot
And to be used, it had to be kneaded

I don't have glory, the shine is not mine
All this anointing, it was the potter who gave me
I bear scars, marks to prove
That I'm a clay pot, but I have a story

For many people, my story was a lot of suffering
But a pot to be molded has to be kneaded first
Better to be kneaded by the potter
Than broken by the world with no chance of being remade

Clay pot, clay pot
The potter chose you because the value you have, man can't evaluate
Clay pot, clay pot
It's clay on the outside, but inside a jewel that no one can buy

Clay that prays, clay that cries, clay that humbles itself
Clay that worships, clay that sings even when it's being tested

Clay pot