The water will come rushing,
the hail will come streaming down,
but no hell will take me,
no god will make me drown.
Drenched and in search of salvation.
No sun to burn my skin,
no thirst to my tongue,
my crooked teeth preaching,
of all the good I've done.
Slowly adapting to damnation.
Rebuilding statues,
loss of life and lack of sleep,
all to someday worship,
at the ground below our feet.
Following a blanket of security.
Mother earth to comfort me,
and the stars to tuck me tight,
steadfast but writhing,
solid yellows and dashed whites.
Modern man taking me.
Yet do you hear it now,
the light sigh of relief,
the hope built in each man,
the promise of belief.
I am home here now.
