Saturday, July 20, 2013

My Heart Bleeds, But What Difference Does It Make

How many times have you sat in front of your television and listened to the words they said, but wanted to complain about the words they spoke to get your attention? They are after your money. How many times have you seen a photo of a bruised and battered child, or a dogs body laying limp because there was no food? Surely you have seen the children from foreign countries walking through the filth were they are said to live. And, out of all of the visuals that you see, what is the one key ingredient that keeps you setting there to watch? What is the one ingredient that makes you pull out your checkbook to try to make a difference?

Music. It makes a difference.
Keith Birmingham
Copyright: 2011 by Keith Birmingham

I watched a man dying from his booze.
I watched a woman cry as she died too.
I watched a family as they fell apart.
And, I tried to understand.

I see the man who slaves all day,
In the fields just to make his pay.
I see the man life is beating down,
And, I try to understand.

I saw the scars on her wrists and hands.
Broken dreams lying in the sand.
When she died I didn’t understand.
The lady dressed in red.
And, my heart bleeds.

I watched the lady as she sold her soul,
To the devil on the streets below.
She lives a life of happenstance.
And, I cannot understand.
And, my heart bleeds.
And, my heart bleeds.

I see the face of a battered child.
A broken life, lying in the dust.
Another victim of a broken home.
Another child that’s all alone.
And, my heart bleeds.
My heart bleeds.

My heart bleed for the children on the street.
For the pain they know will come.
And, the love I know they need.
And, I cry for the broken home.
And, my heart bleeds.
My heart bleeds.
My heart bleeds.
Yeah, my heart bleeds.

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