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lyrics

my understanding falls short,
when it comes to you...
my darling daughter,
I sing of sons,
and harmonise,
with status quos,
I apologise
that's the way it goes

Like sorting mustard seeds through gravel and grit,
the job at hand calls for your delicate frame,
the king will be the king but you'll have your way,
your words, the pillows, where the warriors lay

so have your say, but the king will be the king,
until no tree, turns green

A thousand sons wept their eyes dry,
while the truth sits idly by

credits

from The Reins, released May 11, 2015

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The Ocean Doesn't Want Me Gauteng, South Africa

transformation in our restlessness

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