T X

Dear Heavenly Father…Abba I cry;
Jesus let our tears fall we turn to the sky.

What rage have you led sent we lament
the skies peeled open the devil sent.

Me I cried some but I’m tired dear Father
I sustain bruises in my soul seeing slaughter.

My Christ deliver these souls into thee
my dear Lord receive our sorrow seethes.

Rivers in heaven flow children laugh
along beautiful driven led cobble paths.

Our sorrow Lord is in confusion Lord
hold the devil at bay with your mighty sword.

We are beaten and stripped to bone alone
in this universe we feel for this condoned.

Receive these children in your arms
where courage and smiles feel no harm.

Innocence Lord we cherish in this cold
burns and blood no child should know.

Pain is in an abomination nation of gun
go under we do under hate and sun.

Lord father take these tears turned rotten;
anger is more useful than downtrodden.

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