Everything is different
These four walls made
A dent in my soul,
It dug a hole with a
Water well that never
Hit China but had me
Digging the terrain of my
Fleshly rags of self righteousness
That the early mist was bedtime
That breakfast teatime was a quarter
To three in the noon we waited for
The moon to come, to succumb to
The preacher expounding on Christ
And His ways, how days turned
Into years in the outer world we
Were shielded and guided through
The red letters, did the preacher
Stutter, did demons shudder?
Did we respond to the thunder?
These truths made us better and
Hungrier we went home for
Thanksgiving disguised by the
Busted bellies who loved
Jams and jellies over
Holy of hollies like
Rolley pollies we
Hunched over and
Slept over nights
Of endless sobering
From the Amercian
Dream, for this I
Thank the everlasting
Worship team
