Ancient Potter

Hands of time have traced through life
the ancient potter shapes our souls,
he holds us as we spin around
so shapeless, weak and pitiful.
At times we seem a hopeless cause,
and we break beneath his hand,
but the wheel never ceases spinning,
he picks us up and starts again.
His patience with us never dries,
he’s bound us with his love unending,
quietly picking up the pieces
his back for us is always bending.
Hands of time have traced through life
the ancient potter shapes our souls,
he holds us as we spin around
so slender, strong and beautiful.

Red River

The fields are red, with blood,
The rivers are filled with slain,
the cities are crumbling down,
and their woman, lifeless on the plain.
Their sons lye broken and dead,
on the ground their blood was shed,
silently on the river bed,
they bled.
Some were hacked to pieces,
some were stabbed right though,
some were drowned in the rivers,
and some were trampled too.
The children lay dead in the streets,
their laughter will never be heard again,
their eyes will never see,
their clothing, bloody and stained.
These people died like dogs,
their houses burned to the ground,
because they believed in God,
and they refused to put him down.
The red river flows to the sea,
washing away the debris,
carrying with it the blood of the daughters and sons,
of liberty.
None of them will ever wake,
Not a one of them can rise,
what will be done to the men,
who dared to take their lives?

Silent Screams

Stillness pressing in on me,
straining for a sound,
cowering beneath an empty sky,
upon the barren ground.
Then a rush like shadow feet,
running through the skies,
I turn my head toward the east,
and lift my clouded eyes.
Thick blackness rolling in on me,
clouds in anger born,
roaring like a raging sea,
You ride upon the storm.
Your burning eyes scorching the air,
lighting in your hand,
driving the storm across the ocean,
overtaking where I stand.
Crashing noise and screaming wind,
upon my knees I fall,
rain and waves are drowning me,
no air to breathe at all.
My dying soul screams out your name,
pleading a faint cry,
save me from this no escape,
don't let my body die!
Suddenly I'm lifted up,
the rain is red like blood,
then the sun breaks through the clouds,
and sweeps away the flood.
All sound ceases, light increases,
and trembling I stand,
you open up my fearful eyes,
and hold out a strong scarred hand.
My unbelieving heart is broken,
and I hold it out to you,
you take it from me as a token,
of my love for you.
Then you're gone,
I stand alone, again beside the sea,
a gentle breezes soft clear voice,
tells of your love for me.
Now I dance inside the storm,
and listen for your voice,
you always hear my silent screams,
through the chaos and the noise.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound
that saved a wretch like me,
I once was lost, but now am found,
was blind, but now I see...I see your face!
Amazing grace! Amazing grace! I see your face!

Written Dance

Feel the solid freedom, as you’re gently reeled in,
hold on with your fingertips, and do a quickstep spin.
dancing in a rhythm, as you hear the music play,
moving with the motions that you wanna hold all day,
confined yet wild freedom, has gripped you by the hand,
your flying on your feet, to rockin’ robins sweet demand,
holding conversation as if this were just a stroll,
says dancing’s written on your heart, and also in your soul

No Peace On Earth

Tombstone after tombstone,
pass by me on my right,
children dressed like demons
wander through the night.
Skeletons like living dead
scream as they pass by,
things designed to fill with dread,
make small children cry.
And as our endless sin gives birth,
we ask why there's no peace on earth.
Children under clean white sheets
float beneath the lights,
begging at the door for treats
from witches dressed in tights.
Crimson blood stains on her face,
ashes on his breath,
Satan laughs at our embrace
as we celebrate earths death
And as our endless sin gives birth
we ask why there's no peace on earth
nothing follows but disaster
when the devil is your master.
Shattered eggs and broken glass,
spray paint on our walls,
we watch in horror once again
as the world trips and falls.
And in our brokenness we cry
we just don't understand
why our loved ones have to die
when we leave our walls unmanned.
And as our endless sin gives birth
we cry out for some peace on earth,
but if we don't know Jesus saves,
we're out there digging our own graves,
can't you hear the devils laughter,
when the world calls him master?

Daydreamers Hero

I always was a daydreamer,
I think I always will,
always dreamed I was a hero,
It gave me such a thrill.
in the presents of all heaven,
I used sit back in my pew,
scheme of climbing to the ceiling
And dream of all that I would do…

And when the soldier with the gun,
would come to cause disaster,
I’d swing down from the rafters,
take the shot for everyone.
And when the people would come running,
they’d see me lying there,
they’d throw their hands up in the air,
when they saw what I had done.

And my friends would all stand by,
and they’d hold my dying hand,
I’d tell them that I loved them,
and they’d say they understand.
Then the angels would come down,
and they’d carry me away,
and I’d see the people cry
as they laid flowers on my grave.

One day while I was dreaming,
Napping in my pew,
When daydreaming had failed me,
I gave the sermon my adieu,
In the distance I heard the pastors drone,
As I sat in empty light,
In the center was a radio
Surrounded by bright white,

A little voice inside my head,
said “Turn the volume high,”
I looked at the little radio,
and a knoby caught my eye,
As I turn the little knob,
The light faded away
The pastors voice got louder still,
And from that very day,

I’ve heard about my hero,
spoken loud and clear,
how he lived and died the sacrifice,
through punishment severe,
bearing all my sins to hell,
taking all the blame
how he alone defeat the grave,
Unmarred by any flame.