Poor Daniel (and his unholy ghost)
Come in here out of the rain my son
A wounded heart I do surmise
Your ghosts and memories will not haunt you here
So spill your soul without disguise
Though I'm blind I don't cease to see
Though I'm lame I am free
Though my wounds are deep and scars are coarse
The tragedy I see is yours
Ageless, faceless, tangled in the silence
Its coming to a boil
Graced by the winds of change that blow around you
Its seeping through the soil
I am plagued by impurities
I once was a man of grace
In my falling I could find no shelter
But I've found it in this place
There is no need for you to pull your blade
What is mine is yours to take
What I've found and what I've gained, my son
Is not something you can break
Ageless, faceless, tangled in the silence
Its coming to a boil
Graced by the winds of change that blow around you
Its seeping through the soil
Overhead the thunder sings to me
A melody of better days
When the floods come you must seek to founder
Its the floods, you see, that save
Take me down Sweet Sarah to the body of your blankets
Take me to the center of your mind
Share with me kaleidoscopic visions of allegiance
To the stars and stripes that were mine