The sand and the Wind and the tides can shake it out of you
The hot breezeless streets seed it back in
Like a hill you age and climb, age and climb
And unless there´s a Cliff on the other side
You are going to walk down softly with a different view
Suffer us our demons shield and blade shield and blade
Nothing but your own appropriate spirit will let you save
And suffer us our shortcomings till they burst with shame
Beating the wooden floors into shape with the conscience hammer
beating out the splinters and filling in the gaps
Banging the wrath out of it and varnishing it with compassion
Observe a transformation that allows the love to live there
The rage and sadness dries up like tears and blood
Yet it doesn´t stain the glossy floor
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