History Is Knocking On the Doors
How many times have we traveled this road
How many times do we have to knock on the doors
How many times do you play the same games
How many times do you have to hold your head in shame
How many times have you picked the same fight
How many times we have to sit up all night
Strange people strange sight
failing to do what is right
Strange shadows dancing on the sand
Strange feeling submerging in the land
I wonder if the fellow who caused this commotion
Can get a grip of his obstinate emotions
I watched them mowing the grass less land
I watched them undermining the newsstand
while weeds and bushes are growing all over the land
And the priceless gift is slowly drifting from his right hand
The fashion picturesque are gallivanting around
With a fashion that is no longer to be found
Mingling with the highest caliber
and pretending to be someone of rank
History is rambling on the doors
And reproach is spilling all around
Guilty souls all running for shelters
As the Gods commune in the upper room
Human life is so divine
and earthly things are mixed with wine
You have wrong the Gods who are so sublime
Here I am sitting under this aged old tree
Once again looking at their predicted destiny
How many times have you traveled this road
How many times have this story been told
How many time have you deceive the household
The Gods are crying out to you
Wake up and face the naked truth
History is knocking on the doors.
Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2017
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