In the morning when everyone is baked including my body
and when I am still not satisfied by any ever so loudly pounding gospel
choir and still keep asking where are you now my Lord,
and your paladins, your knights tell me to hold out and I do,
and I wait and I try to open my heart to you and there’s
still no Lord answering me and I worry have I been wrong?
And no Lord gets back to me and I struggle in the desert, I
Lose my steps, my way and He is not there, not saving me,
I start to wonder, and my wond’ring is a small blue flame:
Do you exist – at all?
Oh how I wished I was not forced to disbelieve in you, my sweet Lord!
but you’ve not sprung forth to me in a first shy flower’s blossoming,
nor in a young finches’ call in need of their mother; I simply did not feel you there.
For those in need, we felt we had to care for them on our own,
but I give you that that’s marginal compared to what else is going wrong.
I will not count on you anymore and
oh Lord! I think that’s the first day of freedom for the world now,
get up brothers and sisters, it is all up to you and no other
to save us.