John Mark McMillan - Between The Cracks

LRC by lzh, from jiangxi pingxiang

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Hope grows between

the cracks in the asphalt

in the down downtown

ghetto streets that contour the government

housing intentions of my heart

And no one notices

the daisies don't care

about gang related violence

as long as they get enough air and water and sun

they're all just fine

Who would have thought it but life is finding a way

through this wasteland of cynics, concrete, and pain

There's a man down here somewhere between

those Saturday cartoons and the dirty magazines

He's raising the dead in graveyards

where we've laid down our dreams

and His name is hope

Hope stands high

on the fifteenth floor

of a Christmas tree perched

about the ledge

of a fortress of steel

that's trying too hard

to be somebody's home

as it seized

my attention from I-85

though the throes of the day were

still writhing inside

I lifted my head

as I drove home that night

and knew that everything was gonna be fine.

Who would have thought it but life is finding a way

through this wasteland of cynics, concrete, and pain.

There's a man down here somewhere between

those Saturday cartoons and the dirty magazines

He's raising the dead in graveyards

where we've laid down our dreams

and His name is hope

His name is hope

everybody needs a little

His name is hope

everybody needs a little

His name is hope

everybody needs a little

His name is hope

everybody needs a little

His name is hope

everybody needs a little

His name is hope

everybody needs a little

Can hear him outside

He's been singing all night

He's saying, "When are you gonna

come out from behind

these paper thin walls of your

cardboard box reality.