Standing at the crossroads
of a busy city byway
Is a man who yells at anyone
even if they avoid his eye
'cause he's got something to say
*Jesus is here to stay!
He lives in your heart
and rides the subway
He is coming back for you
... Someday! but Hallelujah!*
there is just a distant echo
and remnants of his passion
as you step into the intersection
upon a You May Walk sign
all that's left behind
is the ringing in your ears
and an adrenaline rush
as you sped up, before
and after the crossroad
of Fire and Eternal Damnation
not being a believer
At the mouth of the Alley
that guards a revolving Hells door
sits a single example
of humanity unwashed
that silently gazes upon a new day
He's also got something to say
but is rendered mute by condemnation
a single black mark
against a nation, his nation
The one he fought for, and died for
his soul never made it back
His body, empty of compassion
turned to the streets
looking for something, anything
he will never get back
Yes, he's got something to say
even if he will never
spill his horror
That is where, today, went
what sat alone in my pocket
There went my last dollar
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 5:35 AM UTC
Standing at the crossroads
of a busy city byway
Is a man who yells at anyone
even if they avoid his eye
'cause he's got something to say
*Jesus is here to stay!
He lives in your heart
and rides the subway
He is coming back for you
... Someday! but Hallelujah!*
there is just a distant echo
and remnants of his passion
as you step into the intersection
upon a You May Walk sign
all that's left behind
is the ringing in your ears
and an adrenaline rush
as you sped up, before
and after the crossroad
of Fire and Eternal Damnation
not being a believer
At the mouth of the Alley
that guards a revolving Hells door
sits a single example
of humanity unwashed
that silently gazes upon a new day
He's also got something to say
but is rendered mute by condemnation
a single black mark
against a nation, his nation
The one he fought for, and died for
his soul never made it back
His body, empty of compassion
turned to the streets
looking for something, anything
he will never get back
Yes, he's got something to say
even if he will never
spill his horror
That is where, today, went
what sat alone in my pocket
There went my last dollar
