Winter Heart

How can you be so sad,
while the sun is smiling,
why do dark clouds march across your eyes?
I see a barren desert land,
behind eyes so beguiling,
they cover up your naked heart with lies.

Do you feel forsaken
in a world so far apart
from the cold undying rhythm,
of your frozen winter heart?

Can’t you smell the lilies,
and the lilac in the spring,
why does the weeping willow make you cry?
Don’t you love the bleeding hearts,
or the freshness of the rain,
why do roses make you want to die?

Do you feel forsaken
in a world so far apart,
from the cold undying rhythm,
of your frozen winter heart?

Shadows creep across your face,
your sun is sinking low,
does a lonely tear fall from you eye?
you could see a better day,
though your heart beats slow,
just reach for the Lord your God most high.

Do you feel forsaken
in a world so far apart,
from the cold undying rhythm,
of your frozen winter heart?

Leave your sorrows, leave your fears
in a world so far apart,
they will not corrupt the beating,
of your whole, unbroken heart.

Fallen Tears

I'm sitting neath the golden sun,
beneath the clear blue sky,
on a soft green grassy lawn,
watching bees fly by,
and far away across the sea,
children die alone,
begging for a crust of bread,
or yearning for a home,
yet on the streets here just downtown,
men laze everywhere,
beneath each roof, each alleyway,
every flight of stairs.
A gentle breeze plays across my face,
and whispers quietly,
of butterflys and sunny skies,
and sparkling deep green seas.
And far across the ocean,
innocent voices cry aloud,
tears stream down each dusty face,
in the weeping croud.
Here, deep within their prison cells,
men who've done great wrong,
will spend their short lives all alone,
until their dead and gone.
My hair curls soft against my cheek,
and I smile at its touch,
and watch the little children play
house and tag and such.
And far across the water,
people gather round,
to praise their God and sing his laud,
in their church beneath the ground,
but all around this city,
no one praises God,
unless it's the first day of the week,
we withold our laud.
I stretch myself beneath the blue,
and close my green brown eyes,
listening to the sound of the wind,
and brushing away the flies.
And somewhere not to far from here,
a babies put to death,
before he could even open his eyes,
or take his first deep breath,
and far across the blue expanse
a mother and a wife,
throws herself before a gun,
to save her babies life...
And while I lay beneath the sky,
basking in the sun,
God is listening to his little children
crying out as one.