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She runs with grace, despite her tattered shoes
Can’t keep the pace, but determined not to lose
She needs to find herself, so I leave a box for her
She opens it to find the thing that frees her soul
I am the messenger, this lot that fate decided
I have no reason not to keep the truth divided
Still something drives me to deliver
I am the messenger, I am the messenger
With drink in hand, he stumbles home tonight
This harrowed man, his undeserving wife
I take him to a field, the gun against his back
I point it at the sun and pull the trigger
If all we ever do is change a person’s life to keep them from the same
Perhaps the seeded soil still will grow with time and till
We are all like empty bowls, many vessels filled with many holes
Pour yourself out into their lives and watch the water rise