Friday, June 18, 2010

This is all...

... I can think right now:

"Oh My God", by Jars of Clay

Oh my God, look around this place

Your fingers reach around the bone

You set the break and set the tone

Flights of grace, and future falls

In present pain

All fools say, "Oh my God"

Oh my God, Why are we so afraid?

We make it worse when we don't bleed

There is no cure for our disease

Turn a phrase, and rise again

Or fake your death and only tell your closest friend

Oh my God.

Oh my God, can I complain?

You take away my firm belief and graft my soul upon your grief

Weddings, boats and alibis

All drift away, and a mother cries

Liars and fools; sons and failures

Thieves will always say

Lost and found; ailing wanderers

Healers always say

Whores and angels; men with problems

Leavers always say

Broken hearted; separated

Orphans always say

War creators; racial haters

Preachers always say

Distant fathers; fallen warriors

Givers always say

Pilgrim saints; lonely widows

Users always say

Fearful mothers; watchful doubters

Saviors always say

Sometimes I cannot forgive

And these days, mercy cuts so deep

If the world was how it should be, maybe I could get some sleep

While I lay, I dream we're better,

Scales were gone and faces light

When we wake, we hate our brother

We still move to hurt each other

Sometimes I can close my eyes,

And all the fear that keeps me silent falls below my heavy breathing,

What makes me so badly bent?

We all have a chance to murder

We all feel the need for wonder

We still want to be reminded that the pain is worth the thunder

Sometimes when I lose my grip, I wonder what to make of heaven

All the times I thought to reach up

All the times I had to give

Babies underneath their beds

Hospitals that cannot treat all the wounds that money causes,

All the comforts of cathedrals

All the cries of thirsty children - this is our inheritance

All the rage of watching mothers - this is our greatest offense

Oh my God

Oh my God

Oh my God

...but even songs that give voice to pain are proof of beauty, of redemption. Somehow, wordlessly, so is the sunrise in the east this morning.

No comments: