Somewhere in the sands of time,
I hear the sound of a faithful cry..
from a bird with broken wings
who sings "my hope will never die!"..
His chances are less than average.
He's a candle in a hurricane.
Still he bows beaneath the storm
and he sings louder amidst the rain.
He knows what he'd become
if it were not for his broken wings..
He'd probably make a nest of thorns
and fill it up with shining things.
He might say "I'll sing tomorrow" -
But tomorrow might never come..
And the only awful song would be
a song that he never sung.
And what would he become
when his soul no longer sings?
So, he sings his songs of gratitude
all the more with his broken wings..

Guards led him to a one-man slam
down a cold concrete, narrow hall..
He checked the sink, threw down his mat,
and scratched "endure it" on the wall..
Between the bitterness of insanity,
he heard a faint whisper in the silence
saying, "what doesn't **** you, heals you"
and that's even true with violence..
He wore a broken heart like black eyes,
you could see it in how he'd walk
with his lowly, desperate demeanor,
looking away every time he'd talk..
He wore every label people gave him,
ignoring that inner voice pleading
saying, "scars are only ugly to those
whose wounds are still bleeding.."
He sang songs to protect his sanity..
hoping it would drown the voices
heard from loved ones in his nightmares
reminding him of his bad choices..
No one really cared to listen..
He was so desperate, he didn't care
for the only love he had, he knew,
was the love that he had to share.  
Loving God means loving people..
Twist it up however you want to,
but there's always hope in hardship
for everything you've ever gone through,
but you have to listen to the whisper -
Not the voices screaming in your head..
My heart cries for the closed mouths
of the hearts that are never fed..
Confess it all and let Him heal you..
Cry out to the One True Savior
The One who can heal the inside
changing natures of those behaviors..
I'm telling you, He'll listen..
He'll give you hope that He keeps secure..
And for the all the storms he don't rebuke,
He gives you strength that you may endure.

I've got letters in my notebook
that I've never read for you,
I wanted you to read them,
but you had better things to do..
I wrote some of them in red ink,
and some of them in black.
Some of them are bitter
'cause you'll never take me back..
I've got letters in my notebook
that you'll never want to read..
but these bitter tears that stained
them are all the love I'll ever need..
There's more to life than loneliness,
more to love than who you've lost,
more to hope than disappointment
because a blurry line's been crossed.
I wrote you one more letter..
one you'll never have to read..
It says, "The purest kind of love
is the love you give and don't receive."

He staggered to the med-line
and wept bitterly from his soul
for the hope, he feared, he'd
never find to fill that gaping hole.
Somewhere in the sands of time,
a boy plays at his father's feet -
when happiness didn't cost a dime
and he danced to a different beat.
But that was years ago -
the song had ended much too fast.
He refused the meds, walked real
slow, and cradled his playful past.

Don't you cry when
I'm in the grave
You'll be sad and
I won't hear..
Tell me what's
the matter now..
Tell the truth
and make it clear.

Don't you weep
when I go to sleep
if there's a promise
I've failed to keep.
I'll give to you and
when I'm gone,
just let me sleep
and don't you weep.

The north wind blows upon
the Sleepy Town oaks
The whirling whispers
louder than the
Sleepy Town blokes
Candles in the windows -
the Sleepy Town hoax
for the town is long deserted
by the Sleepy Town folks
The echo of former laughter
from the Sleepy Town jokes
The Autumn fog appears as if
The Sleepy Town smokes
Rain recalls the memory,
as the Sleepy Town soaks,
of liveliness forgotten
by those Sleepy Town folks..