A Voice

How am I any better than they?
Am I really not like them? A failure? A slave?
How am I any better than they?
Any stronger any wiser articulate unafraid?
The only difference I see is I still fear my death the demons in me the knives in my breath
While they’ve learned to love themselves delusions and all
The difference I see is I’m here on my knees a fool a coward a believer in things
That no one believes anymore
I’m a beggar among debtors their catcher in the rye but I’m failing to catch them failing to save their lives
So what could you possibly want from me?
Please tell me what do you wish from these hands
That can’t stop the bleeding?

So this is who I am a traitor just like them and still you call my name
Well I’m all ears ‘cause I’ve got nothing left to say

But the north wind, is building with fire and lighting
And the chariot is marching and warring and it’s rider is calling:

Son of man, plead with my love tell her I’ve come to bury her sons
Stubborn till death, they’ll fall one by one call the sword, the famine, the plague
You’ll be the only voice they ever heed the voice of their graves