Momma, Sing To Me

In the chaos, let there be a song.

Who is born of woman

And whose days are full of trouble?

Who do we cry out to from within?

Is it God or the lesser?

Our higher selves within?

Is it bubbling up in ecstacy 

As the music sways us?

Let the gentle breeze carry a melody

With words intertwining in our souls

Sing to me Momma

Something about God, about life or something bitter in between

As a melody carries I see the fires blaze 

And the waters of trouble drowning us from deep within

The shouts of every side is crying out for change

I stand on the threshold 

The melody sings to me to choose

What will I do?

Who is born of woman?

And whose days are full of trouble?

Momma sing to me a song

And let me rest in peace