Steal the Pen

Standard

I fiddle with the pen

Stare at the paper white

Don’t want to write it down again

My ink has run out

I’m running dry

My ink is running dry

We fiddle with these keys

Like we don’t want to shut

The door behind us

But everybody sees

It’s time to get the paint wash these walls

with a different colour

a different day

‘Cause if we don’t climb the hill before us

Then we won’t know what the Dawn has in store for us

Rise again

Rise again

These dry bones

Will rise again

Write again

Write again

We’ve got to write another story

Though we don’t know how it ends

May the Author steal my pen.

We stumble with these words

“Beginnings”, “Opportunities”

But we feel it in our bones

Exhaustion from the war we lead

We seem to think that we hold the world in place

What a joke

But the end is far from near

The lines will still come flowing

From a Life-giver who sees

The word beyond the comma

And though I don’t know how to step

I’ll live another chapter from his pen

 

‘Cause if we don’t climb the hill before us T

hen we won’t know what the Dawn has in store for us

Rise again

Rise again

These dry bones

Will rise again

Write again

Write again

We’ve got to write another story

Though we don’t know how it ends

May the Author steal my pen.

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