I still lie awake at night
Dreaming doubting reveling
Please give my hand the words to write
Because I need this off my mind
Please give my tongue the language to speak
Refuse to bend this world of blight
Communication bleed from my veins to the page
Unlock the capillaries my inner securities
Given a preview to all of this pain
I'm only aching from their weight
I'll still sing about love
Even when it's so hard to trust
Still points toward compassion thought sometimes I'm scared of being touched
In truth this is our escape as much as theirs dancing sweating bleeding
Passion give my lungs the air to declare your name
Because I've seen gardens wither in apathy and shame
Seen the prevailing of frozen water over the splitting rock the sweeping snow o'er the plains
Give me strength to raise your banner
Testify not all is lost
Communion from the crowd to the stage
Baptisms in the rhythms
We all lose our way we all long to be saved we all bleed the same
We're only aching from the weight
Give us strength
Give us passion
Baptisms in the rhythms
So child take up your courage quiet your mind they are only strains of living the vibrating of the strings
We have to learn to see the beauty in the struggle play on when our fingers bleed
I'll take existence in all its substance count it all a blessing
This life will stretch and grow you we're only aching from beating out the time
And no matter how we mistrust the light
We're all waiting for morning
(Honestly it's mostly late at night
When clarity comes to me after all chaos and light
The dark prevails around me holding the lives of sleeping friends
The wheel in my fists the road and its bends
Between the second and third cup of coffee during my eighth or so cigarette
Warmth and life run through me despite the chill of mountain wind
It's then that my spirit takes comfort awash with thankfulness
That amidst all of this struggle our hearts can find rest
Even when the void creeps in around you it is light that will win
So child take up your courage quiet your mind they are only strains of living the vibrating of the strings
We have to learn to see the beauty in the struggle play on when our fingers bleed
I'll take existence in all its substance count it all a blessing
This life will stretch and mold you we're only aching from the growing pangs
And this beautiful thing remains
That no matter how we mistrust the light we're all waiting for morning)
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