Sometimes late at night, I watch the ceiling from my bed,
And lying in the darkness, hear a sound inside my head,
Not a sound explained in any book I've ever read,
I hear the distant memories, of things my father said.
I have a sense of looking down, upon the life I've known,
On everything I've ever done, and everything I own,
And far below I see the fields of sorrow that I've grown,
For when things come full circle, we all reap what we have sown.
I hear Him reassure me, He'll protect me from the pain
When life on earth is short, and there is nothing left to gain,
When insanity surrounds me, He is there to keep me sane,
The silent sound puts me to sleep, like falling summer rain.
I dream that we're together, I no longer am a man,
Instantly we've traveled, to a strange, exotic land,
But fears subside, and as He reaches down, to take my hand,
I feel it must be on the edge of Heaven that we stand.
Now, happiness I choose to keep, and sadness I let die,
We're all together in my sleep, and no one needs to cry,
I remember things my Father said, and sometimes, if I try,
I imagine that it's on the wings of angels that we fly.
And every now and then, I think I even see His face,
Then we're walking side by side, into a better place,
And all our pain and suffering, that God has now erased,
His voice echos in my mind, across all time, and space.
So when your heart is empty, and hope is all but dead,
And darkness overwhelms you, while your lying in your bed,
Just listen to the voice, that's there inside your head,
And remember that you can remember, things your Father said.
dean evans 4-14-05