Heart Strings
Posted: Mon Sep 17, 2012 11:13 pm
Summer greetings my friends.
HEART STRINGS
READY THE WRITER, CORTI AWAKE!
SOFTLY I HEAR THE WIND BLOW
SPIRITUAL SYMPHONY MUSIC TO MAKE
OF THE EMBERS WITHIN NOW AGLOW
SCRIBE OF HIS HAND, BROKEN AND TORN
CRUSHED AS A POME TO BE POURED
RICKETY FLESH ON BONES OVERWORN
HEAR NOW THE WORD OF THE LORD
WRITE IN A VERSE, PRAY NUMBER THE MEN
WHO THINK ON ME DAY AND NIGHT
IF THERE BE FIFTY OR FORTY OR TEN
THEN WILL I NOT QUENCH THE LIGHT
TREASURE OF LIFE IS HIS MERCY, NOT GOLD
AND NEW EVERY DAY WITH THE SUN
EVEN THE WICKED MAN AFTER HIS OLD
DOTH PRAY HIDE THE WEB I HAVE SPUN
JUDGMENT NOT ALWAYS JUDICIAL, YOU SEE
DECISIONS IN STRINGS HIGH AND LOW
SO YOU AND I CROSSING DOWN TO THE eV
WITH ALL HE SO LOVED DOTH HE BLOW
WHO ARE THESE CHICKS ‘NEATH THY WINGS,
O’ MY LORD
SO WARM AND SO SHADOWED WITH CARE
ONLY A CROSSING THAT SENT OUT A CHORD
WHERE I PROMISED I’D ALWAYS BE THERE
I PAINTED THEM NATURE, AND KNOWLEDGE SO DEEP
AND LOVED THEM AS NONE HAS BEFORE
AND THESE LOVED ME BACK EVEN FEEBLE AND WEAK
SO DARE NOT MOTHER HEN I IMPLORE
I LOVED THEM TO DEATH, THESE PRAYED I WOULD STAY
IN BOWER TENT BONES OVERWORN
FIFTY OR FORTY OR TEN DID I SAY
NAY FOR ONE SOUL I WOULD YET SOJOURN
HEART STRINGS
READY THE WRITER, CORTI AWAKE!
SOFTLY I HEAR THE WIND BLOW
SPIRITUAL SYMPHONY MUSIC TO MAKE
OF THE EMBERS WITHIN NOW AGLOW
SCRIBE OF HIS HAND, BROKEN AND TORN
CRUSHED AS A POME TO BE POURED
RICKETY FLESH ON BONES OVERWORN
HEAR NOW THE WORD OF THE LORD
WRITE IN A VERSE, PRAY NUMBER THE MEN
WHO THINK ON ME DAY AND NIGHT
IF THERE BE FIFTY OR FORTY OR TEN
THEN WILL I NOT QUENCH THE LIGHT
TREASURE OF LIFE IS HIS MERCY, NOT GOLD
AND NEW EVERY DAY WITH THE SUN
EVEN THE WICKED MAN AFTER HIS OLD
DOTH PRAY HIDE THE WEB I HAVE SPUN
JUDGMENT NOT ALWAYS JUDICIAL, YOU SEE
DECISIONS IN STRINGS HIGH AND LOW
SO YOU AND I CROSSING DOWN TO THE eV
WITH ALL HE SO LOVED DOTH HE BLOW
WHO ARE THESE CHICKS ‘NEATH THY WINGS,
O’ MY LORD
SO WARM AND SO SHADOWED WITH CARE
ONLY A CROSSING THAT SENT OUT A CHORD
WHERE I PROMISED I’D ALWAYS BE THERE
I PAINTED THEM NATURE, AND KNOWLEDGE SO DEEP
AND LOVED THEM AS NONE HAS BEFORE
AND THESE LOVED ME BACK EVEN FEEBLE AND WEAK
SO DARE NOT MOTHER HEN I IMPLORE
I LOVED THEM TO DEATH, THESE PRAYED I WOULD STAY
IN BOWER TENT BONES OVERWORN
FIFTY OR FORTY OR TEN DID I SAY
NAY FOR ONE SOUL I WOULD YET SOJOURN