from my window
i can see where you were led astray,
and all the many paths upon which others lost their way.
none have I traversed for fear
of making their mistakes –
i embrace the fear as wisdom from a higher place.

when truth becomes a fairy tale,
the teller is a lie.
when fairy tales become your truth
be quick to run and hide;
close the shades so no one sees
the thorn that’s in your side,
and mend the screens to mind the midges
drawn here by the light.

selah …
oh selah, selah …

well, the only light that gets here
falls from my redeemer’s lens,
alighting only frailty
and reasons we should tend
neither to the flowers
nor the soil in which they grow –
all of which my hands were cleansed
in power, years ago.

selah …
oh, selah, selah …

oh, to speak a spark of truth,
a spark of truth …
a cold, dark truth …
oh, to speak a spark of truth
that cannot coax a flame.

from my window
i can see where you were lead astray
and the scree of rank and rabble
left here in your wake.

selah …
oh Absolom,  selah.

©2010 Pale Yellow Music/ASCAP