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Sunday, December 8, 2024

Singing in the Small and in the Dark

I started writing this song about two weeks ago - but I was sick and couldn't record it. So I wrote more verses. And the cold lingered, so I waited to record it and wrote more verses. I figured I should finally record it, even though I've still got the congestion that won't go away, so that I can stop adding more verses. 



In the silence between your heartbeats
in the space between the time
you might hear a voice
that sounds a bit like mine


Singing in the small and in the dark
a song that's unrehearsed
and what comes back to you 
is the measure of every verse.

Plugged in low and fading fast
the squeeze has caught my heart.
I would like to tell you 
but I don't know where to start. 

Say what you will when time stands still
and shadows cross the floor;
I never knew you then,
you'll never know me more. 

You can hear me or ignore me, 
it doesn't matter either way. 
What was faint and forced
is stronger every day. 

Your greatness has no virtue;
you tell me only lies.
You fill the house with bitterness
and complain when your love dies.

Get in the car and drive away, 
drive on down the road.
Look in the rearview mirror
and watch the world explode. 

Say a prayer to God above 
if you think you've got the right.
Purge the demons from your past
and try to set things right. 

There are things I can't ignore - 
the wormwood and the gall.
I'm trying to remember 
so I can forgive them all. 

Curse the darkness and light a flame; 
it's not an either or.
Every opportunity 
lies just beyond that door. 

The world is spinning round and round
and here we are again. 
Sometimes the light goes out. 
Sometimes the bad guys win. 

There are days and days of nothing 
except for headaches and fever chills.
I've never felt so dirty
or taken so many pills. 

But we will not be overwhelmed 
by the enormity of grief, 
doing justice, loving mercy
and waiting for our relief. 

In the twisting grip of conscience
we know the right from wrong. 
Others choose to suppress it   
but we will sing its song. 

Singing in the small and in the dark
a song I think you've heard
and what comes back around 
is the measure of the word. 

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Jeff Carter's books on Goodreads
Muted Hosannas Muted Hosannas
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