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Follow His Light
I think,
I see,
A million whitecaps,
Making waves,
And they're taking no naps.
Fresh and speaking,
So native,
I have freedom to create,
Oh, creative.
Wind,
Brave,
Pushy,
And immense.
Blowing strong,
Oh, intense.
God's hands,
Ever more than slight,
Follow His light.
What?!
A mortal!
Here, a man,
This I ask,
Because I can.
Flawed mortal,
That, you are.
Mortal flawed,
That, you are.
Copyright © 1999 - 2025
Steve Bujanow, Chris Theriault, Neo Cortex The Band, aka Neo Cortex
All rights reserved
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