Being As An Ocean - Waiting For Morning To Come lyrics

I still lie awake at night Dreaming, doubting, reveling Please, give my hand the words to write, because I need this off my mind Please, give my tongue the language to speak, refuse to bend to this world of blight Communication, bleed from my veins to the page Unlock the capillaries, my inner securities Given a prevue to all of this pain, I’m only aching from their weight I’ll still sing about Love Even when it’s so hard to trust Still point towards compa**ion Though sometimes I’m scared of being touched In truth, this is our escape as much as theirs Dancing, sweating, bleeding Pa**ion, give my lungs the air to declare your name Because I’ve seen gardens wither in apathy and shame Seen the prevailing of frozen water over the splitting rock The sweeping of snow o’er the plains I’ll still sing about Love Even when it’s so hard to trust Still point towards compa**ion Though sometimes I’m scared of being touched Give me strength to raise your banner Testify, “Not all is lost!” Communion, from the crowd to the stage Baptism in the rhythms We all lose our way, we all long to be saved, we all bleed the same! We’re only aching from the weight Give us strength Give us pa**ion Baptism in the rhythms So child, take up your courage, quiet your mind They are only the strains of living, the vibrating of the strings We have to learn to see the beauty in the struggle, play on when our fingers bleed I’ll take existence, in all its substance, count it all a blessing This life will stretch and grow you, we’re only aching from beating out the time And no matter how we mistrust the light, we’re all waiting for morning (Honestly, it’s mostly late at night when clarity comes to me, after all the chaos and light. The dark prevails around me, holding the lives of sleeping friends, the wheel in my fists, the road and its bends. Between that second and third cup of coffee, during my eighth or so cigarette, warmth and Life run through me despite the chill of mountain wind. It’s then that my spirit takes comfort, awash with thankfulness. That amidst all of this struggle, our hearts can find rest. Even when the void creeps in around you, it is Light that will win. So child, take up your courage, quiet your mind. They are only the strains of living, the vibrating of the strings. We have to learn to see the beauty in the struggle, play on when our fingers bleed. Let us take existence, in all of its substance, and count it all a blessing. This life will stretch and mold you; we’re only aching from the growing pangs. And this beautiful thing remains: that no matter how we mistrust the light, we’re all waiting for morning.)