Well, I wrote a new song last week. Haven’t recorded it yet, but I thought I’d share the lyrics – heck, maybe you even want to help me improve on them as this thing develops!

The song is about Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, wrestling with God about what he has to go through. It’s been fairly powerful for me, so hopefully it is for you too.

asthma children symptoms

This Garden grows death
in it’s damp and it’s dark
Your three closest friends
Are asleep on the bark
Of a tree that once grew tall
Offering it’s shade
But it’s dead and it’s mourning
it’s black and decayed
And You search for a place that is
Far enough out
So your voice won’t be heard when
You cry and you shout
Have You come here to bargain?
Have You come to ask why?
Is that fear or pure sorrow
buried in your eyes?

And isn’t it time to turn water to wine?
To drink a different cup …
To forget what’s on Your mind?
Seems a good time to take up Satan’s deal?
To leap from tall buildings
Without bruising a heel

But now’s not the time for miracles
Now’s not the time for trap doors and way outs
Now’s not the time for miracles
Everything comes in its’ time

It’s a strange sort of prayer
More a fight to the death
You walk back to your watchmen
There isn’t one left
They’ve all slept through this spiritual
Solar eclipse
They don’t get it
How could they?
Who would have guessed this?
And you drop to your knees
There’s no way out, not yet
And Your pores are all dripping
with blood or with sweat
Jacob left with a limp
Moses tongue couldn’t find an excuse
Paul’d be blinded
Why fight Him when You know it’s no use

When You know well that
Now’s not the time for miracles
Now’s not the time for trap doors and way outs
Now’s not the time for miracles
Everything comes in its’ time

I sit at her bedside
And cry to the roof
I don’t know why I hold on
When I have no proof
But there’s something in knowing
You knew how this felt
And there’s something in sharing
This hand we are dealt

But isn’t it time to say,
“Wake up … arise!”
“Take up your mat!”
“Come on open your eyes”
Isn’t it time now? He’s sick. Close to death.
He’s been in the grave for four days, why not yet?

Now’s not the time for miracles
Now’s not the time for trap doors and way outs
Now’s not the time for miracles
Everything comes in its time

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 3rd, 2007 at 8:08 pm and is filed under Songs. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.