Sunday, March 11, 2007


The wind came up, the storm rolled in, I felt the lightning on my skin, my God when I looked up the rock was riven
I kept the faith, I held the rope, when trouble came I couldn't cope, so how can I still hope to be forgiven?
A junkyard full of broken parts, a desperate surrendered heart, that's where I'll have to start to be forgiven.

You clawed your way to wealth and fame, you struggled with your secret shame, that all the while the Name from you was hidden
You blew your mind and lost your nerve, you rolled your bike at Dead Man's Curve, you think you don't deserve to be forgiven
And now you're dying in despair, was it because you didn't care, or couldn't bear or didn't dare to be forgiven?

The veteran in the shelter said "I can't escape the hungry dead, I might be better off if I weren't living,"
The rain brought out the smell of sage, the wind came up and turned the page, the word he read there was "You are forgiven."
The children on the killing floor were forced to fight the Minotaur, they chained them up like slaves and they were driven
Some were cowards, some were brave, some went to an early grave, but quick or dead they're saved and all forgiven.

If all the cells were open wide we'd be afraid to go outside, we've lived so long inside our favorite prison
We use our tears to wash the floor, but sorrow's just another door and tears are only meant to clear your vision
The day the trumpet splits the sky the dead will walk, the living die, and somehow you and I will be forgiven.

I'm not the one who lives these words, these are stories I have heard and writing down's the job that I was given
I'm not the worst, I'm not the best, a traveller here like all the rest, and on my knees I'm praying just to be forgiven.

No comments: