Serving His God

I saw the old priest all in black walking to the small town church on a chilly late October morn, bent against the wind the mountains a backdrop to his back a flock of birds flew over the trees red and gold and green and I thought to myself, what a life what other road could this man have chose to fill his dreams I don't serve god, don't serve anyone just live alone, what a life just memories, I have no dreams don't worry about god, don't worry about my soul don't worry if the world is sick or old or cold don't call no one brother, don't get down on my knees don't raise my eyes to heaven, don't worry about anyone's needs what other road could I have chose to fill my dreams the old man unlocks the door alone with his god he genuflects to the floor it's no the business it used to be in his younger days or the days of old what of his god, what of those souls what of a world that goes from colder to cold something's gone wrong, it's in the air it's been there a while, no one cares maybe it's god's turn my friend to come back and show himself again he's been riding the belief wave long enough maybe he needs to come and show his stuff to show he really cares to show he's out there and as he always says to himself "they are mere mortals, what could you expect" how can he still expect us to believe how can he expect us on our knees in a world that's weary, sad and sick it's time to come back and do more tricks the old man still prays will be down on his knees until his grave he sees a world worried and sick he's lived long enough to know it's tricks he knows man will go many ways until he's put down in his grave "have mercy on us all" the old man prays