How much pain there would be
If every Sunday felt the pressure
Of a Christmas Sunday,
To get the words just so and the
Worship in perfect order
So that every last drop of the wonder
Of God’s Love come down to us
In the Gift of Immanuel
Wrapped squirming in a manger
Might be savored?
How much pain,
But oh how much pleasure?
A Pastor Musing in His Study (A Christmas Poem)
Afraid of the Dark, a song
I’m not afraid of the dark
I’m more afraid of the light in me
That bright and beautiful spark of you
No I’m not afraid of the dark
Beautiful and dangerous
Burning bright and glorious
Sparkling victorious
Inside of me
Could it be that there’s more than we imagine
Going on inside the soul
Could it be that there’s truth inside the passion
And the yearning makes us whole
The breath is willing, but the blood is weak
The heart is spilling and the spirit can’t speak (cause I’m)
I’m not afraid of the dark
I’m more afraid of the light in me
That bright and beautiful spark of you
No I’m not afraid of the dark
Beautiful and dangerous
Burning bright and glorious
Sparkling victorious
Inside of me
Shine on morning starlight
Come illuminate me
Light up all my blindness
Help me see what you see
The breath is willing, but the blood is weak
The heart is spilling and the spirit can’t speak (cause I’m)
I’m not afraid of the dark
I’m more afraid of the light in me
That bright and beautiful spark of you
No I’m not afraid of the dark
Beautiful and dangerous
Burning bright and glorious
Sparkling victorious
Inside of me
Labels: songwriting
Dead Man Walking, a song
I got miles to go before I sleep
I got miles to go before I sleep
If I should die before I wake
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
I’m a dead man walking, taking his first step
Like a blind man gawking, or a baby’s first breath
I’m a dead man walking, for crying out loud
Like a mute man talking, or a torn grave shroud
I’m a dead man walking
And the winter snow, it covers my tracks
And the winter snow, it covers my tracks
If I don’t find my way to you
I’m sure I won’t find my way back
And the lights ahead, they beckon to me
When the wounds of the past are all I can see
And just one more step and I will be free
I’m a dead man walking, taking his first step
Like a blind man gawking, or a baby’s first breath
I’m a dead man walking, for crying out loud
Like a mute man talking, or a torn grave shroud
I’m a dead man walking
I got miles to go before I sleep
I got miles to go before I sleep
Labels: songwriting