| Some things I’ve done make my conscience burn
|
| My very spine shudder and squirm
|
| I only hope that I’ve learned from my sin
|
| I heard a voice when I was thirteen
|
| Got baptized — washed up clean
|
| But the world has a way, if you know what I mean
|
| To scuff you up again and again
|
| I can’t explain a blessed thing
|
| Not a falling star, or a feathered wing
|
| Or how a man in chains has the strength to sing
|
| Just one thing is clear to me there’s always more than what appears to be And when the light’s just right
|
| I swear I see poetry
|
| Now, somebody made every natural thing
|
| From the soul, inside out to saturn’s rings
|
| How my baby smiles and how Ray Charles sings
|
| Of course we were created
|
| The clouds make rain, the ocean makes sand
|
| The earth breates fire, and lava makes land
|
| Now that took a mighty hand
|
| And a wild imagination
|
| I can’t explain a blessed thing
|
| Not a falling star, or a feathered wing
|
| Or how a man in chains has the strength to sing
|
| Just one thing is clear to me there’s always more than what appears to be And when the light’s just right
|
| I swear I see poetry
|
| The dreams I dreamed came back ten-fold
|
| The friends I have, the woman I hold
|
| I look down and I’m on streets of gold
|
| After all the mud along the way
|
| And sometimes the big old mystery
|
| Just leans right on me And whispers that I’m home and I am free
|
| And I’ll take that any day
|
| I can’t explain a blessed thing
|
| Not a falling star, or a feathered wing
|
| Or how a man in chains has the strength to sing
|
| Just one thing is clear to me there’s always more than what appears to be And when the light’s just right
|
| I swear I see poetry |