He is just a pauper, preaching from his own pulpit.
All the thoughts he has, have grown from his own agony.
Beaten down, but never kept down; he is not in sync.
Living one way, his way. At war with everybody.
One fist holding a flower, with a hand upon his heart;
He has never known a love like yours, so give him your sympathy.
Down on his knees, he is crying in the dark;
Begging for you to just show him a little mercy.
Anti-social, humanitarian ghost;
No longer does he believe in the hope you offer and the joy you see.
Happy Days is just a T.V. programme; not a thing he knows.
Death and despair is all the news shows today
And there are no hippies to bring him some peace.
A countdown to oblivion is the only image he can see;
An Armageddon with love and hate…he is our last hope.
This is the time, this is the hour; let us not be empty.
Share loves wealth around; give him thanks and not rejection…
Betrayal is a no, no.
Last man standing under a banner with a heart design;
Let a pacifist army march with him, as he holds his flag up high.
Let all the wandering lost souls, be drawn to what he has inside.
He is the keeper of the secrets of how to love;
Let just one soul see what he keeps within, so he can save two lives.
When all others have fallen beneath the sword,
A lone man will walk beyond the ruins and find a paradise.
If you have faith in him, he will be all yours;
Let him show you a future where we all love each other…
Allow him to help you to visualize.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.