Like faithful oxen through the chalk,
|
With dragging tails of history walk.
|
We soon confuse the compass and the cross.
|
Carefully and cursively we fill our traveling diaries with loss.
|
|
Beneath an angry Bible flood,
|
Did you and I first learn to love.
|
In my father's car we came to know.
|
And shivered in our painted clothes and paired like every animal below.
|
|
As heavy as a history book can be,
|
I will carry it with me, oh Lord.
|
And maybe when the bitterness has gone,
|
There'll be sweetness on our tongues once more.
|
|
Barefoot in a rowing boat,
|
You lose your shoes and freeze your toes.
|
And say I wear my sorrow like a crown.
|
And throw your arms around my head, and see it there in gold and red and brown.
|
|
As heavy as a history book can be,
|
I will carry it with me, oh Lord.
|
And maybe when the bitterness has gone,
|
There'll be sweetness on our tongues once more.
|
|
We'll soon forget our parents' names,
|
Like dogs will drive the wolves away.
|
And weep with fingertips opposed,
|
Like a church where nobody congregates.
|
|
But sweetness sings in the pasture,
|
We throw ourselves on the mercy of the earth.
|
If sand and salt have the answer,
|
Then the act itself will be louder than the word.
|
And I'll be on your side [x4]
|
|
But sweetness sings in the pasture,
|
We throw ourselves on the mercy of the earth.
|
If sand and salt have the answer,
|
Then the act itself will be louder than the word.
|
And I'll be on your side [x4]
|
|
-----------------
|
History Book
|
| Dry The River |
