Fear only has as much power as we give it space.
Mud and water and the stumps of trees. In every direction that was all there was. Bodies fell, but the trees died standing up.
I'm singing for the love of it/Have mercy on the man who sings to be adored.
Its been a long time coming but now the snow is gone
I'm looking over rooftops, and I'm hoping it ain't true, that the same God looks out for them, looks out for me and you.
I do think that there's art that is tortured, but I prefer art that has the joy in it.