Rabu, 09 Mei 2012

Freedom by Josh Garrels


By the word and command, mortal man can stand, son of man is the manna manifest

In the flesh and the blood, and the bones and the rocks, in the valley of the dead

The dry bones are gonna walk and talk

To the rhythm of the saints y’all, to the rhythm of the saints

And I paint it red to remember the dead, who layed down their lives for the truth

And the seed that is buried takes root, and this ignorant world will have proof

I remember the sins of my youth, the path and the madness of unrestrained pleasure

The heavier trip it made the heavier debter

In the deepest of dark without a wing or a feather,

The spiral closed in like a cage, like a cage

A maze that’s amazing for days turns to rage if the page it refuses to turn

And the hopeless will hope the book burns

When the lesson it returns, but the lesson is still unlearned

See I yearn to discern if a life can be earned or is given as a gift to the dead

I read and I bled and I fed to the full my soul on the sickest of sickness

Seeking the light of a saviors witness, a way that one day that I might forget this

But slave master wont permit this

Cause I’m a hooker I’m his mistress

And when I look for freedom he puts more chains on me

Strangles my hope so that I live like a zombie

What masters house can this be, that when I look for freedom he still deceives me

If there’s a God I screamed, “Answer me!”

I didn’t expect an answer to be received, He said

You must die, to be set free, living in the kingdom of God eternally

Open up my eyes so that I can see, and die with a cry revolutionary

Every man and woman is a witness, and we will never forget this

Truth

Undiluted, undisputed, never to be substituted, or uprooted, fully suited for the war

It’s a modernization of a timeless metaphor, and

By the boomerang we bring the beats back more

What for man, do we work exterior to core, or begin it in the spirit of the Lord

Now you could pull the chord, but the people still sing it acapella

Marching to the beat I hear their feet are in the cellar

Fear not the world cannot stop what must begin within you and me

A fire wind, holy hymn, beautiful diadem, hidden within positively pure prism refraction

Every colors broken down, harmonize with my eyes spectrum

In the end bleeding into the One, to the source, to the beautiful father of light

All the pressure and pain, produces perseverance

It’s purged by the flames, without interference

Produces a hope, In the glory of God

My God I am your son, and I know that you will finish the work that you’ve begun

Homespun, grassroots, spontaneously suits the purpose, and we don’t deserve this

Life

He said

You must die to be set free, living in the kingdom of God eternally

Open up my eyes so that I can see, and die with a cry revolutionary

Every man and woman is a witness, and we will never forget this

Truth

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