There are no mystic j**els
embedded in my prose
No moonlit haloed cherubs
perched on my piano
No lyrics laced with pixie dust,
no angels sing along
I am just a beggar who gives alms
Gold and silver have I none,
but such I have give Thee
Borrowed words from the One
who gave the gift to me
The pearl that I could never buy,
this life, this dream, this song
And I am just a beggar
who gives alms
I am not the creator,
but a scribe with a pen
I'm recreating visions through a
cracked and broken lens
Only One has ever seen
the home for which we long
And I am just a beggar
who gives alms