HE WAS A CARPENTER
BY; JACKIE CARLYLE ©2017
V1
HE WAS A CARPENTER
THE HAMMER AND THE NAIL TOOLS OF HIS TRADE
I LOVE WHAT HE MADE
HE WORKED THE WOOD
EVERY SPLINTER THAT HE TOOK WAS A LESSON IN A BOOK
ON THE MANY GRAINS OF WOOD
A REVERENT EXCHANGE
A PIECE OF FLESH, A NICK OF THE BLADE
CHORUS
HE WAS AN HONEST MAN, WITH STRONG AND CALLOUSED HANDS
HE BUILT A HOUSE OF FAITH, WITH GENTLE WORDS OF GRACE
THE SWEAT UPON HIS FACE,WAS WATER FOR THE CLAY
AND HIS BLOOD BECAME THE MORTAR, THAT SEALED EACH STONE IN PLACE
V2
HE WAS A CARPENTER
HE PATCHED THE FRACTURED HEART OF LONG ABANDONED SOULS
WHERE SICKNESS MADE A HOME
THE MIGHTY TORCH OF TRUTH
WHO SEARCHED WITHIN THE CAVES, THAT HOUSED THE ILL AT EASE
THE RAGGED MEN AND THIEVES
THE CUP OF GOD DIVINE
HE'D TAKE YOUR TEARS AND TURN THEN INTO WINE
CHORUS
HE WAS AN HONEST MAN, WITH STRONG AND CALLOUSED HANDS
HE BUILT A HOUSE OF FAITH, WITH GENTLE WORDS OF GRACE
THE SWEAT UPON HIS FACE,WAS WATER FOR THE CLAY
AND HIS BLOOD BECAME THE MORTAR, THAT SEALED EACH STONE IN PLACE
BRIDGE
HE WENT OUT LIKE HE CAME IN, BY THE THE TOOLS OF HIS TRADE
THE HAMMER AND THE NAIL, AND WOOD PREORDAINED
EVERY SPLINTER THAT HE TOOK IS A WORD IN OUR BOOK
EVERY CHURCH THAT WE BUILD HAS A CROSS MADE OF WOOD
CHORUS
HE WAS AN HONEST MAN, WITH STRONG AND CALLOUSED HANDS
HE BUILT A HOUSE OF FAITH, WITH GENTLE WORDS OF GRACE
THE SWEAT UPON HIS FACE,WAS WATER FOR THE CLAY
AND HIS BLOOD BECAME THE MORTAR, THAT SEALED EACH STONE IN PLACE
SCULPTURES MADE OF AIR
Jackie Carlyle ©2001
IN BETWEEN MY FINGERS SHAPES GO SWIRLING BY
LIKE BUTTERFLIES THEY CRAWL UNTIL THEY BREAK THEIR FORMS AND FLY
SOUNDS CURL AROUND SILVER STRINGS LIKE GOLDEN STRANDS OF HAIR
I SIT INSIDE MY ROOM AND MAKE SCULPTURES OUT OF AIR
A THOUGHT IS JUST A THOUGHT, NOTHING BUT A VAPOR
UNTIL YOU GIVE IT SHAPE OR PUT IT DOWN ON PAPER
YOU MUST MOLD ALL YOU'RE REVEALING IF YOU WANT TO HOLD THAT FEELING
FOR YOU ARE ITS CREATOR, YOU ARE ITS CREATOR
ALL THAT REALLY MATTERS IS HOW WE LIVE OUR LIVES
SOME MEN CREATE SUCH MISERY AND SOME WILL SACRIFICE
THERE’S THE HOLY MAN WHO CHANTS THE THIEF AND MILLIONAIRE
THEY ALL MAKE THEIR SPECIAL SCULPTURES OUT OF AIR
I WATCH A CANDLE GLOW TILL THE WICK HAS DIED
STILL I SEE IT BURNING WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES
NOBODY CAN TELL ME THAT THERE'S NOTHING THERE
I CAN TURN THAT FLAME INTO A SCULPTURE MADE OF AIR
A THOUGHT IS JUST A THOUGHT, NOTHING BUT A VAPOR
UNTIL YOU GIVE IT SHAPE OR PUT IT DOWN ON PAPER
YOU MUST MOLD ALL YOU'RE REVEALING IF YOU WANT TO HOLD THAT FEELING
FOR YOU ARE ITS CREATOR, YOU ARE ITS CREATOR
ALL THAT REALLY MATTERS IS HOW WE LIVE OUR LIVES
SOME MEN CREATE SUCH MISERY AND SOME WILL SACRIFICE
THERE’S THE HOLY MAN WHO CHANTS THE THIEF AND MILLIONAIRE
THEY ALL MAKE THEIR SPECIAL SCULPTURES OUT OF AIR
ASHES AND URNS
JACKIE CARLYLE © 2001
V1
I’VE BEEN A COLLECTOR ALL MY LIFE
STRANGE THINGS CATCH MY EYE
COBALT BLUE BOTTLES ONCE LINED MY SINK
THEY BECAME GOOD FRIENDS OF MINE
THE FLEA MARKET HOLDS THE SAME KIND OF PLEASURE
AS TOYS IN A FIVE AND TEN
ONE MAN'S JUNK IS ANOTHER MAN'S TREASURE
TO LOVE ALL OVER AGAIN
CHORUS
THE SUN RISES THE SUN SETS, THE WORLD STILL TURNS
BETWEEN THE ROSES AND THE REGRETS
WHAT WE FORGIVE AND WHAT WE FORGET
LIFE HAS A POLICY OF NO RETURNS,
SO NOW I COLLECT -- ASHES AND URNS
V2
I HATE TO HAGGLE FOR SOMETHING I WANT
IT TAKES THE JOY OUT OF ME
LIKE MEN WHO COME WITH WAY TOO MUCH BAGGAGE
YET NOTHING INSIDE TO SEE
THE LAST GUY WAS CHEAP WITH ALL OF HIS FEELINGS
HE DIDN'T EVEN HAVE A CLUE
GUESS HE COULDN'T GIVE WHAT HE DIDN'T HAVE
SO I GOT ME A BOTTLE OF BLUE
CHORUS
THE SUN RISES THE SUN SETS, THE WORLD STILL TURNS
BETWEEN THE ROSES AND THE REGRETS
WHAT WE FORGIVE AND WHAT WE FORGET
LIFE HAS A POLICY OF NO RETURNS,
NOW I COLLECT -- ASHES AND URNS
BRIDGE
LOVE, LOVE'S, NOT A - TRANSIENT HIGH
IT'S NOT JUST A SHORT LIVED MIRAGE
AND TOYS DON'T REPLACE FEELINGS UN-FACED
THEY JUST MAKE A CLUTTERED GARAGE
CHORUS
THE SUN RISES THE SUN SETS, THE WORLD STILL TURNS
BETWEEN THE ROSES AND THE REGRETS
WHAT WE FORGIVE AND WHAT WE FORGET
LIFE HAS A POLICY OF NO RETURNS,
SO I SET FREE -- ASHES AND URNS