Waiting For Morning To Come

I still lie awake at night Dreaming doubting reveling Please give my hand the words to write Because I need this off my mind Please give my tongue the language to speak Refuse to bend this world of blight Communication bleed from my veins to the page Unlock the capillaries my inner securities Given a preview to all of this pain I'm only aching from their weight I'll still sing about love Even when it's so hard to trust Still points toward compassion thought sometimes I'm scared of being touched In truth this is our escape as much as theirs dancing sweating bleeding Passion give my lungs the air to declare your name Because I've seen gardens wither in apathy and shame Seen the prevailing of frozen water over the splitting rock the sweeping snow o'er the plains Give me strength to raise your banner Testify not all is lost Communion from the crowd to the stage Baptisms in the rhythms We all lose our way we all long to be saved we all bleed the same We're only aching from the weight Give us strength Give us passion Baptisms in the rhythms So child take up your courage quiet your mind they are only strains of living the vibrating of the strings We have to learn to see the beauty in the struggle play on when our fingers bleed I'll take existence in all its substance count it all a blessing This life will stretch and grow you we're only aching from beating out the time And no matter how we mistrust the light We're all waiting for morning (Honestly it's mostly late at night When clarity comes to me after all chaos and light The dark prevails around me holding the lives of sleeping friends The wheel in my fists the road and its bends Between the second and third cup of coffee during my eighth or so cigarette Warmth and life run through me despite the chill of mountain wind It's then that my spirit takes comfort awash with thankfulness That amidst all of this struggle our hearts can find rest Even when the void creeps in around you it is light that will win So child take up your courage quiet your mind they are only strains of living the vibrating of the strings We have to learn to see the beauty in the struggle play on when our fingers bleed I'll take existence in all its substance count it all a blessing This life will stretch and mold you we're only aching from the growing pangs And this beautiful thing remains That no matter how we mistrust the light we're all waiting for morning)