Silver Box

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Phil Gawen

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He was a mouse, a man in dismay
'Just a face in the crowd
The holy word, a black book in place
Of his sense of right and wrong
A man without Pride

He didn't want to face new ideas
Waiting for the crowds to appear
Speaking as they dropped off their money 
In his silver box
There's not enough to fill the socks
Waiting to fill the hearts of poverty

He was a king, a man with the power
To supply their demands
One day he died, and with him
Their means to pray, and feed off his two hands

Their government was somewhere at large
Somewhere else, but not here
The winter came, and all of their hopes
Of warming suddenly an unreachable fire

And someone had to steal to survive
And someone shot him dead in their fright
Or was it just a sporting endeavor
Counting all the people that died
Counting all the people who lied

Bureaucratic mess in their democratic silver box
There's not enough to fill the socks
Wanting to fill the hearts of poverty

Before the clouds begin to kiss the ground
Lightning will strike
Until we understand, we'll pay the price
Take what you can, now's the season
And cherish your life, it's your prison
If one penny more makes the difference
It buys us the time, to forget

We need a king, a king who believes
We are out on our own
And when he dreams, that all of us serve
The unknown, the untenable liar
And when he smiles he disarms our doubts
With his charming ideals

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