Verse 1 Nineteen years old in a backyard in Ohio, Seventeen souls and a Bible in his hand. No stained-glass glory, just a calling and a fire, A boy who said yes when the Spirit said “stand.” From a circle of chairs to a harvest of nations, From a whisper of faith to a worldwide cry— He lifted the Word like a banner in the midnight, And the ground that was barren began to multiply. Chorus Harvest fire, harvest fire, Burning through the darkness, lifting Jesus higher. From Columbus to the ends of the earth, Preach the cross, preach the blood, preach the second birth. Harvest fire, harvest fire, Let the breakthrough fall like holy rain. Pastor, keep on shouting till the captives are free— There’s a harvest still waiting in Jesus’ name. Verse 2 He built a house for the hurting and a school for the hungry, Sent bread and a Bible where the night would not break. Bridge of Hope over oceans, a voice on the airwaves, Calling every sleeper in the valley to wake. Not a polished performance, but a Pentecost preacher, With a lion in his lungs and a lamb in his heart. He stood in the gap when the culture went quiet, And he told them the Gospel still tears walls apart. Chorus Harvest fire, harvest fire, Burning through the darkness, lifting Jesus higher. From Columbus to the ends of the earth, Preach the cross, preach the blood, preach the second birth. Harvest fire, harvest fire, Let the breakthrough fall like holy rain. Pastor, keep on shouting till the captives are free— There’s a harvest still waiting in Jesus’ name. Bridge Not for a name, not for a stage, Not for the applause of a passing age— For the One who called him when the field was small, For the Lord of the harvest who still owns it all. If the first “yes” was whispered in a backyard night, Let the last “yes” thunder in the morning light. Final Chorus Harvest fire, harvest fire, Burning through the darkness, lifting Jesus higher. From a backyard spark to a worldwide flame, Give the glory to Jesus, bless His holy name. Harvest fire, harvest fire, Let revival fall like holy rain. Keep on preaching, Pastor, till the work is done— There’s a harvest still waiting… and the Lord says, “Come.” ---
