A Gasped Hosanna and a Broken Hallelujah
A gasped Hosanna and a broken Hallelujah
Praises, sing, it’s what was meant to be
This is not what we were meant to do
We’re bleeding songs but meant for who?
It’s not about a habit, it’s not ritual
It’s not pride, it’s not nationalism
It’s gotta be real
Raw, feeling, dealing
Instead we’re pretending as the tentacles keep reaching out
Squeezing, bruising and draining
Where’s that pride we said we would live on?
Where’s the glory?
When children starve and robbers dance in the sun
When you can’t feed those who you once could
Ask yourself if pride is worth this sorry story