Theres a child screaming inside me
Demanding perfection for every town
And breaks his heart for every crack
That he can’t fix nor bring up for play;
Theres an old man inside me
Yelling at every rash illogical move
And breaks his heart for every point
That he cant solve nor argue to prove;
Theres a lonely lover inside me
Writing of glory and of courageous honors
And breaks his heart for every white flower
That he cant pick up nor grow nor pay;
Theres a righteous Ghost above me
Striking in beauty and of elder magic
And breaks His heart for every blood
That my broken men has spilled and sprayed;
Then theres a new heart inside me
Filled with new pages, shapes, and faces
Which mended its old beaten self for every gift
That old King’s magic has made and graced and paid
