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The History of Pain

You’re lucky someone is telling you this before you have to go
It’s something to think about, you decide if you need to know
We believe we so loved the world but it would only be the self
We can’t decide between Jesus, Caiaphas or gold on the shelf

The truth stands apart like a bright light inside a thick shade
We can sense its presence but don’t know how it’s made
We don’t know how to say goodbye to death or culture
It always happens too soon but memories last forever

Who is lonelier than before love is born or ambition fulfilled
The pilgrimage of fault lines in our souls continue as willed
But by whom for we strayed from love and caressed a sword
The seeds planted in God’s name were never a gentle word

A celestial compass scented passage to the spice islands
Filling the sails with betrayal they blinked back their tears
The stars that recorded the past guided their tormenters
An angels wings tried but swells only swallowed mutineers

The tightly woven fabric of their life could not be unwound
There are so many mouths to feed and by this they were bound
They weren’t poor until their saviors masts stirred the horizon
The sun that set upon them would never tell them the reason

History builds bridges over rivers and shifts the sand at our feet
Cemeteries they dug by hand are paved by intentions indiscreet
Burying their babies, their mothers cried and wise men too
But the king lied to himself again, for jade was the life anew

There’s a difference between vision and how we choose to feel
We accept the past because a myth matters and not what’s real
It happened to somebody else so it makes for a good story
We don’t their dead the dead unless they died for our glory

Yet love is how we forget our sins and how they remember
As they look back upon the path that is the memory that savor
They were the life of the world but almost became it’s death
But the life they knew of jade and spice never lost it’s breath

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