Lowest of the Low

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I filled my days, a broken cup
With empty goals and brittle plans
A futile game of hurry up
Of heaven help the middleman
A waking dream, but I woke up
And I became a minuteman
I became a minuteman

You make your deals, you chase the sun
Searching for divinity
You spin your wheels the more you run
Sinking deep into infinity
Your eyes, your eyes drink in that brilliant light
The lie that lies behind the light
Arise, arise, cast off that blinding night
Arise, tune out that satellite

Sometimes I feel my feet are shackled to the ground
A million pounds
Where would you go if you could free-fall through your life?
Ah, would you dive, would you dive
Or would you rise?

Six billion five hundred believers in the light
They must be right (unless they’re wrong)
One single skeptic stands corrected by the throng
How could the righteous be so wrong?
For so long

And you count the days like prisoners do
Saying “what can this world do for me?”
I hate to say the joke’s on you but hours are centuries
They pass away the way we choose — palace or penitentiary
Hours, seconds or centuries

  1. Teenage Insurrection Ron Hawkins and the Do Good Assassins 2:28