The Athlete

Open Wide

Jungle Crash

I plan to re-record this during the week once my ACTUAL recording stuff gets to my house. So, expect that, friends!

Here is the story:

Birth, or Something Akin to It
- Craig Bidiman

You said you’d be there when I need you
But you never answer when I call
Maybe I’m bored with happiness
Or just tired of fighting  a lost cause

I stood in the doorway—staring, you were staring back at me
So I faked a smile and yelled your name
But you had no ears to hear—you  no eyes to see me
I fell back into the armchair—defeated—

What is this that I felt?
Is it everything?

An ever-flooding current sweeping me from you—
Holding all of my tears in fear you’d learn
That I’m more terrible than I seem
Oh, how disgraceful can I be?

At times like this I recognize the cleverness of God
His sense of humor, mocking me
His cynicism, unparalleled
We are but pawns in this game,
Where our handicap is a curse of recklessness—a venomous despair
And He sits, and watches—and waits
Until the right moment to free us—to keep us from dangling

But when will be our time?
And where I to go?
Well, that all depends on where I’ve been.

I fear, this is where hypocrisy lives—in my bones,
Where, I’m unsure if I’ve ever truly felt your spirit dwell
And if I meet someone to call my own
My wedding vows will serve as sorrow-filled prayers for guilty bodies.

But this agreement will not stand! 
Day by day! Night by night!
We will be together; we will persevere.
This shame will be forgiven
Our eyes will be opened
Our ears will hear the gloriousness

And I will finally rest soundly in my bed
Which I’ve made—alone, the way it should be.


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