It was the quietest day of the year
when I discovered I knew nothing at all
except the loss of everything dear and knew then
it had been all my fault.

Without thought or time to think I'd wounded
every last one. Because I had no filter to speak
of, and I thought people were made out of stone.

Not so, as it turns, we are flesh, mostly flesh
with very little bone.

There is a little river that I sit by when I'm sad,
I'll stay there everyday
until I'm no longer mad.
When the rains fall down
upon my head,
I'll shelter under cover
of the trees growing tall
by the river.

There is a little river where I can be all alone.
No one can find me there
I can disappear and disappear.

That you are able to say anything you want
and our actions will determine
our metal?

Satan uses people too you know,
how do I know you are not filled with his grace?

Is God silent
watching
while Satan plays his chess?

I don't want it to be true,
but if you are a brother,
why am I struck down by you?

Why are you here in my place?
Why could you not keep
a kind moment kind
and our lives at rest?

Hello strangers
wishing to just share
a tiny moment
to fellows
without really knowing you
only joining in camaraderie
of being alive,
and tormented,
and seeking refuge
without ridicule,
or chastisement,
or lies,
or false words.

I sought this place,
for days and years,
only to have never found one
small corner.

So here i stay
persecuted
spied upon
teased
and stymied.

I only hope there are a few
unknown eyes with whom I might
share my song.

There is no relief. Death could come faster.
My only fear is who will take care of my child.
Nights like tonight,
I wish someone would die,
he or I. Take one or both.

Send me to hell if that be my home.
Or is this chamber on earth
just the first of many.

Why did you send him to torment me?
Why does he choose trespass?
Why can he not stay anonymous?
Why did he have to signal me his presence?

If it is God's work he does, why does he bother me?
Why does he not keep a timely distance?
Why does he not disappear into his own time and place
that is not mine.

Give me my private hollow,
forget me from the minds of anyone,
let me die in the minds of everyone.

This is like a spirit circle
feathers in our hands
none of us listening
just given a private moment to express.

breathe spirit
sigh into your chest
cry into this troubled night
where you dream of a midnight sky
twenty years ago.

this song is not for you or you or you
to hear. Our deafness blocks all sound
or feeling.

These songs left here
are simple prayers
sung over and over
and over again.