Risk It All

Mama gave too much for one soul to hold,
Poured her heart out warm, and it turned me cold.
Her hands were mercy, her voice was prayer,
But her kind of love left me gasping for air.
She meant it holy, she meant it deep,
But you can drown in the tears she keeps.

I got the War Child Blues, caught between what’s right and what’s true,
Half of me reaching, the other half through.
Every scar’s a map that don’t stay drawn,
Seems my sorrow’s what the world feeds on.
Yeah, I got the War Child Blues.

My old man’s ghost don’t make a sound,
Still, his shadow’s always hanging around.
A chair at the table, an echo in the hall,
He ain’t gone — he just don’t call.
Some roots don’t grow, they twist instead,
And bloom inside your head.

I got the War Child Blues, a war I never chose,
Peace and anger tangled close.
One side wants to lay me down,
The other side keeps holding ground.
Yeah, I got the War Child Blues.

There’s a line that cuts through every name,
Between love and loss, between pride and shame.
Somewhere I’m both storm and field,
Both the wound and what it healed.
And when I sing, I don’t choose a side —
The pain just opens wide.

I got the War Child Blues, walking where no one stays,
Both the reason and the haze.
I carry more than I was made to bear,
And still got love to spare.
Yeah, I got the War Child Blues.

Just a Little While

onetwelve