Poetry - Pat Green

Some things I’ve done make my conscience burn

My very spine shudder and squirm

I only hope that I’ve learned from my sin

I heard a voice when I was thirteen

Got baptized — washed up clean

But the world has a way, if you know what I mean

To scuff you up again and again

I can’t explain a blessed thing

Not a falling star, or a feathered wing

Or how a man in chains has the strength to sing

Just one thing is clear to me there’s always more than what appears to be And when the light’s just right

I swear I see poetry

Now, somebody made every natural thing

From the soul, inside out to saturn’s rings

How my baby smiles and how Ray Charles sings

Of course we were created

The clouds make rain, the ocean makes sand

The earth breates fire, and lava makes land

Now that took a mighty hand

And a wild imagination

I can’t explain a blessed thing

Not a falling star, or a feathered wing

Or how a man in chains has the strength to sing

Just one thing is clear to me there’s always more than what appears to be And when the light’s just right

I swear I see poetry

The dreams I dreamed came back ten-fold

The friends I have, the woman I hold

I look down and I’m on streets of gold

After all the mud along the way

And sometimes the big old mystery

Just leans right on me And whispers that I’m home and I am free

And I’ll take that any day

I can’t explain a blessed thing

Not a falling star, or a feathered wing

Or how a man in chains has the strength to sing

Just one thing is clear to me there’s always more than what appears to be And when the light’s just right

I swear I see poetry