countenance

Same old story
Dying and believing and why
And who came forward
to be at your side

Don't walk on flowers
Walk on water
Build your bridges softly
inside

Don't turn away from me
This is my season
A slave to reason
not loathsome pride

Obtrusive measure
in velvet motionless
as children wait on their side
with the dreams we have tried to find

And in this season
of cold duress
What comes to mind is remorse for the wounds we dress

A naked glacier
A mortar filled pond
A seed with no smile
A wounded child

An oath to carry
with beads in your hair
Come up from your knees
spin silk caresses

Now wash the blood away
with words of love
You'll become in return
the child of a small white dove

A minstrel playing
is God's own saying
Once a hero to come
with a will to pray for us

Yeah wash the blood from your fingers
with boundless love
Ease the pressure away
Understand these words