When

A Hymn of Hope

Dying grass and rusty swings
Shuttered shades and empty rings
A brand new day but what it brings is old and the same
So why do we hate yesterday?
And is it any different today?
When did it become a crime to play without changing anything?

When the losers win
And the broken down stand
Maybe this tired world will start to spin again
When the mourners grin
And the meek raise their hands
Maybe this dying world will start to live again

Failing hearts and bleeding wrists
Scar tissue and calloused fists
When did life turn into this sad story that no one wants to read?
I guess it’s always been this way
But I’d imagine that someday
We might all wake up and say “You know, something ought to change”

When the sick are made well
And the hungry are filled
Maybe this tired world will start to spin again
When the lost are brought in
When mercy covers our sin
Maybe this dying world will start to live again