The Weakerthans. Illustrated Bible Stories for Children. Zeneszám

Morning bright, rise
Go over your lines
Iron your carefully crafted disguise

We'd all like to sing
It's easy to sigh
To sprinkle a handful of plausible lies

Our buildings will rise
Poke out our own eyes
Publicly smile and privately frown

A weeping reprise
Please hear my cries
I'd like to pull just this one building down

So turn off the sky
Head in my hands
Night keep me warm, white window-sill

Blinded by heart
Cut my hair short
Eyeless in Gaza with the slaves at the mill