It should be simple—this life thing
even for the least—me
I hear the word
and my tears fall to the ground
racing, past me as on my knees I pray

When I know I should be meek
I act wild
inside this beast beats the heart of a child
whose father is not shamed
when he hears me call His name

Is it too late
to change the way I see
and the cloak I show the world?
I pray not, if I do pray at all.

Why, when I,
meek need to be
act so wild,
unable to overcome the worst in me
even though there is a best
beating with in my breast

My father knows
I long to live like Him, for Him
it’s the way, I’m told, it should be,
all good,—honest and without fear,
to go abroad with faith
knowing he is here

Despite all that, I don’t know where I am
I can’t find the one who needs mending,
I can’t fine me, I don’t know me,
I only see a shadow
of who I’m supposed to be,

It should be simple, this life thing
simply, it is not,
no pass, no reprieve,
the grace train, has it left the station
left me I’m on the rail side
trying unsuccessfully to hide
from the faces of those on Bound for Glory?

Maybe the next time,
maybe the next ride,
maybe not, maybe never,
what a way to live
what a way to die while living