Only some will hear the shofar shout
its echoes trumpet across the land
In towns and cities
people alarmed,
on Highland summits
where sheep are now farmed.
Heaven’s mountain overlooks it all
wondering if they’ll heed the call.
The discordant drumming
shakes those still sleeping
As angels wipe away
tears from the weeping
a million footsteps
can be heard if you listen
a million teardrops
of mourning glisten
the prayers of the past
and the future merge
as all paths
into one converge
a nation rises
that was born long ago
a people’s chorus
of songs new and old
an ancient race
towards the finishing line
of all the battles
raged throughout time
the warriors, the heroes
the heroines too
no longer will be shrouded
in red, white and blue
suffering on the cross
for the salvation of all
we’ll set them free
when we answer the call
the call of the needy,
the screams of the poor
the pleas of those
who can’t take any more.
It’s our future too
and I won’t be gagged
on the thorns of the rose
I won’t be snagged
Hung, drawn and quartered
our bodies displayed
to quell down rebellion
in the hopes we will stay
chained like the unicorn
our mythical beast
instead of walking forward
into freedom’s feast.
