I don’t know how to say this
I don’t know where to stand
I don’t where to put my feet
Or where to put my hands
I got them my pockets
My fingers are freezing cold
They’re wrapped around a ticket stub
That’s four weeks old
And I don’t know how to say this
I think we figured out
This world is bigger than you and I
We’ve exhausted our wealth, knowledge,
Have no more answers for mankind
And we’ve had every conversation in the world
About what is right and what has all gone bad
But have I mentioned to you that this is all I am
This is all that I have
And I’m not trying to judge you
No that’s not my job
I am just a seeker, too
In search of good
Somewhere, somehow the subject became taboo
I have no other way to communicate to you
That this is all that I have, this is all that I am
And we’ve had every conversation in the world
About what is right and what has all gone bad
But have I mentioned to you that this is all I am
This is all that I have
And I would like to share with you
What makes me complete
I don’t claim to have found the truth
But I know it has found me
The only thing that isn’t meaningless to me
Is Jesus Christ and the way he set me free
And this is all that I have, this is all that I am
It’s all that I have, and it’s all
The only thing that isnâ€â„I'm not asking for favors
not tonight
I look up in the sky...
all the rockets fall down (fall down)
too many promises
too many lies
too many faces for me to know
Sometimes I sit among the markers
and contemplate my next life
says something less sympathetic-
"a little more unconditional respect was buried
here"
"But it never lived
and it never died
it never came from them
it was always inside..."
I don't care if time just passes us by
I can stand the change...
but not the cruelty
too many promises
too many lies
too many faces for me to know
Sometimes I sit among the markers
and contemplate my next life
says something less sympathetic-
"a little more unconditional respect was buried
here"
"But it never lived
and it never died
it never came from them
it was always inside..."
(Spirits of the Dead by E.A. Poe - 1827)
Thy soul shall find itself alone
'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone;
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness- for then
The spirits of the dead, who stood
In life before thee, are again
In death around thee, and their will
Shall overshadow thee; be still.
The night, though clear, shall frown,
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in the Heaven
With light like hope to mortals given,
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever.
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,
Now are visions ne'er to vanish;
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more, like dew-drop from the grass.