Artist: George Donaldson
Album: The White Rose
Yep, the things we see before us, are they always what they seem?
Our values of today, they evaporate like steam.
The cares that always cause so many long and sleepless nights,
Slowly creep in an’ wrap around as deaden morning lights
Every breath apart of life and its always our doin’
We take for granted every day, it company all aboard,
That daily life we deem is normal can make a man a kin
The more that we believe we own the more we’ll lose in everything.
We’re lost so deep within ourselves because, we never ask.
Without our menial tasks in life we fall like badly stacked up cards.
Well the dealer rents accordingly from a king down to a two.
And he keeps his cents for himself, while we play the hierarchy blues.
Suffice to say that we’re still here, so this must be the way.
Alternatives will only cloud, our selfish sunny way.
But still we cling, we clutch, we judge, does it make us feel alive?
We cheat our fellow man so bad, there but for the Grace of God, go I
And meet all others at your peril and believe all that you want,
Condescend to your heart’s content, ‘til your face is old and wrought,
‘Cause generations come and go; you’re nothing but the same,
Your high and mighty self portrait with fill-like human heart of shame.
|1||A Song for Harry Chapin|
|2||Safe in the Harbour|
|6||Let the Tears Flow|
|9||On a Bus to St Cloud|
|10||The White Rose|
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|1||Let the Tears Flow|
|5||Safe in the Harbour|
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