I must get there tonight
We must
Drop the sore throat
Drop the setbacks
In our travel
The songs should bear fruit
The crew always work their set-up
Magic.
But Lord I feel that edge
That indescribable thrill
I know this audience
Usually sits on its hands
Pushed around by program.
Let it live tonight
Let it dance as
A living collective
Let it expect your arrival
And accept the breaking
The unashamed response
The words of overcoming
In the selections.
Intentionally Lord
We let them see pain
And perplexity in the words
They do not all believe
That they are winning the battle
But they play-act
Pathetically.
Tonight may they see
In the chords, tone and stanzas
That you have already won
And they are already yours.
Graciously.
It’s time…
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