John The Batist

In the waking hours of the morning
The Sun yawns and stretches forth to shine
Everything reaches up to feel the light

It depends on your perspective
So keep looking up
The Spirit is not an emotion
The light of understanding, understanding if light which reveals everything

Tradition, Admission
A confession and regression
It sounds complicated
Like a razor down your spine

Like a blind clairovoyant a mute mystic
The future is our yesterday for those who wish it
(Who wish it)

Through the wilderness I must go
I will prepare the way
I looked over Jordan and I see things that others dream