Saturday, January 12, 2013

Dead Weight

By Mark Bishop

Dozens of prophets and laws and psalms
Wrapped in 400 years of dust and tears keeps me low to the ground as I walk around
Wondering who is left for me to trust?
Oh God have you deserted us?
You spoke of redemption! You said we had hope!
But the days linger
Our oppression grows stronger
And I think I would rather be dead

A star with radiant tail wreathed high above this barren land.
It is so far, oh that it would but come
That such a brilliance would not so far off stand
A chorus
A melody more beautiful than all the songs of men
I dare not gaze upon this host
I fall on my face and then
"I bring you good news of great joy!"
He spoke about a baby boy
A little life in a world of death
A hope which for centuries had gripped our hearts keeping darkness at bay
But seemed until now swallowed up like dying star on a silent night.
Could this be the Messiah?
Our King, our help, our deliverer!?
With such a host and proclamation of joy the world has never know
Yes this must be the one to come and sit upon king David’s throne.
But oh right now he's just a babe

I hope I live to see him save
Once for all this broken race
Until then
Even the dead