The bank had closed, my earthly store had vanished from my hand.
I felt there was no sadder one than I in all the land.
And she was singing as she hung the clothes upon the line.
"How can you be so gay?" I asked. "Your loss, don't you regret?"
"Yes, ma'am, but what's the use to fret? "God's bank ain't busted yet."
I felt my burden lighter grow, her faith I seemed to share.
In prayer I went to God's great throne and laid my troubles there.
"God's bank ain't busted yet."
God is my number one resource. He never stops giving.