From the recording Desolate Heaven
Reminder to self: don't swing for the fences.
You stood upon the mountainIn the cyclone's swirling airWith the burning bake and the seismic shakeYet somehow the spirit wasn't there
Chorus:It wasn't in the earthquakeNor in the blast of hornsIn the fury of the fireNor the bolt of the thunderstormCause it's a whisper in the quietTo comfort her who mournsYou gotta dig for the truth in the healing rootsUnderneath the thorns
How you gonna feed the hungry?You ain’t got all that much yourselvesJust pretend it's a race to clear some spaceFor the leftover baskets on the shelves
Your wealth's not in your moneyDon't tuck your talents in a tinYou'll never earn enough to give as much As the widow who put a penny in
It's a tent and not a templeIt's a shepherd, not a kingA trickling creek, not a roaring riverSo throw down your weapons; let the singers sing
(c) Dave Nealon 2018