Tell me a story
Tell me a story
Please tell it soon
Give it some conflict
And a hero or two
Tell me a story
I must know the end
Of battles gone by,
and boys grown to men
Tell me a story
Tell it with grace
Make it so grand
And yet commonplace
Tell me a story
I just have to know
Tell it again
How did it go?
Tell me a story
Let it all out
Fill it with wonder
And fear and with doubt
Tell me a story
More beautiful than ever
Of princes and fairies
And ever and ever
Tell me a story
How will it end?
Happily ever after?
and after that how bout then?
Tell me my story
It’s getting so late
Just a small little glimpse
into the fate I await
Where do I fit?
What should I do?
My heart is so restless
I’m counting on you
Show me your glory
Make my heart glow
Show me some more
I just have to know
Show me your glory
My little heart screams
Give me some hope
and faith to believe
Show me your glory
and also your touch
Mine crosses with yours
We suffer so much
Show me your glory
Lift up my head
My hands they are buried
To my weeping I’m wed
Tell me a story
Of ages long ago
Tell it again
How did it go?
Comfort me now,
Tell me you’re near
Because you are with me,
I will not fear.
Category: Poetry
His major contribution to the world was not a set of aphorisms. He was born in a turdy barn, grew up in a dirty world, got baptized in a muddy river. He put his hands on the oozing wounds of lepers, he let whores brush his hair and soldiers pull it out. He went to dinner with dirtbags, both religious and irreligious. His closest friends were a collection of crude fishermen and cultural traitors. He felt the spittle of the Pharisees on his face and the metal hooks of the jailer’s whip in the flesh of his back. He got sweaty and dirty and bloody – and he took all of the sin and mess of the world onto himself, onto the cross to which he was nailed naked.