The Waiting Room-POOR OLD LU

She was staring at the ceiling I was staring at the floor He was fixed in thought and wonder of what lied behind the door There was a man with little movement I knew I’d seen him here before The people with the children were sick to death and would wait no more The world it can’t be moving It’s been two thousand years or Have I stopped breathing? Have I stopped believing? Believe me, I… He must’ve talked for forever I think they finally turned away And I was thinking to myself I should have plenty more to say And some were getting very restless Some were filling up the days I was hoping that the girl with the curl would be safe The world it can’t be moving It’s been two thousand years or Have I stopped breathing? Have I stopped believing? Believe me, I… Just want to have the patience of a saint who waits at the gate Please don’t be late The floors are giving in The walls are getting thin The clock is moving slow My breathing comes and goes The room is getting small The sin is growing tall We wait for the day We wait for the day The world it can’t be moving It’s been two thousand years or Have I stopped breathing? Have I stopped believing? Believe me, I… Just want to have the patience of a saint who waits at the gate Please don’t be late She was full of good intentions I was full with all my greed He was holding out his hands as if to give, as if to bleed There was a man with little substance I know I’d seen him here indeed The people with the children spoke so soft to confess their need And some are getting hopeless Some are filling up the days I am hoping on a promise, on a gift, and so I wait… [[Category:Poor Old Lu]]

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.