Returning

I’d rather eat crumbs at your table
Than feast at their plate.

When will the lost come in?
They say come before it’s too late

I’d rather beat drums of my ancestors
Than play that piano of hate

When will our hearts break for them?
They say it has to be their fate.

We’re all hungry for world peace
But they’d rather hold onto the pie
Instead of just their own piece.

I see brokenness everywhere
The stench of a painful wound that’s bare
I see beauty in somebody else’s hair
But beauty is not plenty enough to share.

I’d rather eat crumbs at your table
Than feast at their plate of fable

When will the lost come in?
“I wish we’d all been ready”
Sounds more like a manipulation

I want to go down with this ship
I’m not the captain but you created it
It’s a lie to think that we can leave
Just because we’re regenerate

When will our hearts break for the breaking of it?
Because mountains are hearing the voice of the eagle returning

The sand hears the stream that’s yearning
The well has the wealth of a sky’s sharp burning

And they say that’s it a good time
Because the eagles, they’re returning

I’d rather eat the crumbs from your table
Than feast at the plate of our fable
Because the eagles they’re returning

Written by Nathan (sort of)