Who will follow me into the sky?
Will they train their telescopes
to catch my silver sail?

Who will leave this dying world behind?
Will they build a ship to set
their better angels on my tail?

The meek can inherit the earth
we’ll take the stars.
The meek can inherit the earth
when heaven’s ours.

Who will give their daughters to my sons?
Will their generation stretch
as far as they can fly?

They can have the cradle we’re done
growing into giants upon
giants standing high.

The meek can inherit the earth
we’ll take the stars.
The meek can inherit the earth
when heaven’s ours.

One of the first songs I consciously remember writing and wanting to save. Circa maybe seven years ago. Also perhaps the most ridiculously self-indulgent I’ve ever written.

Who pushed splinter in my side?
I reach and feel the water and the blood.
Is this love, to let me go?

Who pushed these thorns into my head?
These barbs are oh so bloody and so red.
Was it love, to let me go?

Oh I know just the words to say.
The words to tear us all apart.
Oh I know just know to break
a girl’s heart.

You touch your finger to my side.
Horrified to feel the wound so wet.
Is this love, to let me go?

You tremble, hammer in your hands.
You know exactly how this story ends:
Was this love, to let me go?

Oh I know just the words to say.
The words to tear despair apart.
But I know just how to break
a girl’s heart.

Pray that I won’t break yours.
I’m scared to speak and then regret.
Pray that I won’t break yours.
I’ll bite my tongue. There’s still hope left.
Pray that I won’t break yours.
How far can we get? How far can we get?

Oh you knew just the words to say.
The words to tear my soul apart.
Oh you knew just to break
my heart.

Super-old song. Just getting the lyrics online.

Does it surprise you,
what’s going on in the places
where you haven’t looked in so long?
Do you wonder if you know how
to pick up the pieces again.

You pick them up. You pick them up.
You pick them up but they fall down again.

Laura told me that all my songs sounded the same, so I wrote something a little musically and thematically different just to prove that I could. But don’t worry, it’s not as grisly as it sounds. It’s what we call a, you know, metaphor.

General, I will feed you to the dogs
if you dare come round here anymore.
Didn’t you see them straining at the leash?
Maybe you should have a second thought.

Before you’re just a ghost,
disjointed sack of bones,
another sad reminder
we’re still free.

Office, they will rip you limb from limb
if you dare come round here anymore.
Didn’t you see them circling the yard?
Maybe you should take a second look.

Before you’re just a ghone,
disjointed sack of bones,
another truncheon lost
another sad reminder
we’re still free.

President, they will trail you through the fog
until they finally find your foul trail.
And when you ask for the mercy you deserve
trust me, we will all give it to you.

Before you’re just a ghost,
poignant sack of bones,
another leader lost,
another sad reminder
we’re still free.

Central Park hostel. Did you know know
in the basement there’s an old piano?
You can figure out love in its notes,
while you’re making it up as you go.

Cuban cigars out on the roof.
American whisky, eighty proof.
But you’re in your own world running loose,
and you’re making it up as you go.

Everyone seem to know how it should all work out,
but it’s all lies. They’re making it up as they go.

Thirty-three hours on the road
with vehicles turning into ghosts
on missions that only you can know,
you are making them up as they go.

Everyone seems to know where it should all end up,
but it’s all lies. They’re making it up as they go.

Through all the world, your radiant glory’s shining,
though dimly now, one day in all its light;
when you appear and tear the veil wide open
what we can see in part we’ll see in full.

When we turn and you are there
with healing fire in your hands.
With justice for the oppressed
we will sing a new song.

You make all things new.
You find the damaged and you bind their wounds.
You alone can heal
the world and everything that’s so broken in it.

You’ve been sure for two hundred centuries now.
On the mountain while a merchant pockets your gold.
Do you mind? Put your hand to the plough.

Was there a time when the water fattened the fold?
Or have you been shuttered and boarded up for that long?
Is the wine and the bread gathering mould?

Are you really what you think you are?
Do you guard the words but forget the song?
Fabulous muscles meant to move the world,
can barely move a mountain now.

Beat the dead horse with the stable door swinging wide.
All the best souls flinch to see its fragmented bones.
Can you find better gifts for the bride?

Are you really what you think you are?
Do you guard the word but forget the song?
Fabulous muscles meant to move the world,
can barely move a mountain now.

This one’s for N.T. Wright.

Into a world of injustice the Judge will walk
to give the poor and weak their voice.
and those who have exploited the broken ones
will be broken under his feet.

We’ve been looking, we’ve been working,
we’ve been watching, we’ve been waiting
for your love to make the whole world new.

Like a bride to her husband the church will walk
to meet him in the open air,
and these old corrupted bodies will be transformed
like the body of the risen Son.

We’ve been looking, we’ve been working,
we’ve been watching, we’ve been waiting
for your love to make the whole world new.

Jerusalem bring peace to earth.
Oh, Son of Man return.
Jerusalem bring peace to earth.
Oh, Son of Man return.

We’ve been looking so long, we’ve been working so hard
for your love to make the whole world new.

Into a world of injustice the Judge will walk
to give the poor and weak their voice.
and those who have exploited the broken ones
will be broken under his feet.

Jerusalem bring peace to earth.
Oh, Son of Man return.
Jerusalem bring peace to earth.
Oh, Son of Man return.

We’ve been waiting so long, we’ve been working so hard
for your love to make the whole world new.

I was listening to the bleeding edge of emo before emo was cool. Can you tell?

The cut is deep and the gash is wide.
Oh my soul, what have I done to you?
I thought this parting would burn inside,
but I never knew. I never knew.
With all deliberate speed I will run away.
Deny myself the need, let it get away.
This is the curse of heart made to beat
with all deliberate speed.

The gully’s long and the gulf is wide.
Oh dear heart, I never meant to be
so complicated and full of pride.
But guess you see. Yes, you see.
With all my fairy tales I will run away.
If my vision fails I will crawl away.
This is the curse of a head made to ache
with all deliberate speed.

The fall is here and the call is long.
Oh your voice. Good to hear it again.
I thought you’d conquer. I know you’re strong.
Are you happy, then? Happy again?
With all deliberate words I will let you down.
But were those tears I heard or just another frown?

Call it theft or murder, it isn’t right to say.
Call it cruel to hurt her in such deliberate ways.
But I mean to cut not kill.
Blame the coffee, the lack of skill.
I won’t foot the bill. I don’t fit the bill.

The space between in the place we mean
to atone for the damage done.
This is my pardon. I killed the queen,
but you bought the gun. I’m not the one.
With all deliberate speed I will run away.
Deny what I have seen, let it get away.
This is the curse of mind made to race
at all deliberate speed.

The end has come. I will send you some
of my thoughts and my new-found view.
I’m not so perfect but not so dumb
to return to you. I learned from you.
With all deliberate speed I will fall away.
Call it vice. I call it a holiday.
This is the last song I write for you
and your deliberate speed.

The pain and the silence. The stain of the violence.
Goodbye. I never meant to be yours.