between the storms

a silent moment's worth a million tales
we ask ourselves just how much we would pay
to get what comes for free on any day
the thing that we want is the thing that fails

let all our hearts be turned back to red clay
and we'd not know just how much we owe
nor yet how much there still remains to know
nor will we start upon the proper way

at the appointed hour we'll see the show
we'll not be too far forward nor far back
not one of us will think we'd have the knack
just when to smile and when with hope to glow

we arm ourselves and think about attack
but aren't the ones who'll stand on the front line
our feet won't be blown off by a mine
nore will we think of those who wail and lack

as far as we're concerned the whole world's fine
and we aren't going to face the harshest pain
our lives are predicated on the steadiest gain
and we have no reason now to weep or pine

and yet we fear the ones who cut in twain
the knotted cords that hold us safe in place
we worry that we still can lose the race
and wonder at the long delay of rain

our minds are set to research and to trace
just what the start was of all this broil
we don't expect to find a foe or foil
but want to see all of you praise our grace

on these rough waters we won't pour this oil
the calm must come from some far different source
we ride the storm as others ride a horse
and laugh when any thinks of it as toil

upon these waters we must take our course
the journey with great fear and terror rife
will lead us straight to horror and to strife
and we will meet them with our fullest force

for in the end the one with the sharp knife
will be the one who lives the fullest life