i know they are just words
but they have the power in them
to raise me to the highest peaks
and crash me to the lowest hells
i know you take them as literal
and i certainly did when young
but with the onset of a little age
the words began to melt into truth
the truth that we must face the week
the people in it and all the events
that obliterate the words into monatony
of repetition and ever present misery
i know they are just words
but the impressions they've made,
the currents they have activated
are rushing courses through my mind...
who gave you these words?
or even the right to repeat them?
have you no clue their power?
on a young and impressionable mind?
so i offer dull silence
i make no promise other than the heartache
that won't blossom into full deppression
as long as it's ever felt in the chest
at the hunger of the world, the poverty of the rich
the poor who will always be with us
the yet to be born child
the stray in the alleyway
this is the law i have observed,
that words eat words,
and the saddest song is the sweetest
the one that rings most true
and if there be a ray of hope
on a cloud-filled day,
it's that in honest temperance the prize is won
though true happiness be denied....
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