lyrics
The Prophet
March 1, 1995
Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom if the grave wither though goest. —Ecclesiastes
Sage was a man I'll always remember
He lived out in the woods somewhere
I used to fish the Steep Rock river
And I would often see him there
He was a man of peace and wisdom Although his outlook was rather grim He said he'd seen all the works of this world And life was a striving after wind
Just look around-what do you see here? The sun brings forth abundant light And then just strips it all away The more you learn the more your grief is
Stare into the deepest well The answer's never going to sound And all the happiness you've found Will not join you in the grave
And though he held these strong positions He was far from an embittered soul He often talked of his great adventures Though these were all so trivial
He taught me to rejoice the morning Savor the smell of the springtime wind Embrace the day as a celebration For it's all vanity in the end
Well I don't know-if I believed him Surely he was quite sincere in the convictions that he held But when he died-I still remember I saw a smile upon his face It broke my heart to see it shine Could it be he changed his mind In the end after all….?
He was a man of peace and wisdom Although his outlook was rather grim He said he'd seen all the works of this world And life was a striving after wind
Just look around-what do you see here? The sun brings forth abundant light And then just strips it all away The more you learn the more your grief is
Stare into the deepest well The answer's never going to sound And all the happiness you've found Will not join you in the grave
And though he held these strong positions He was far from an embittered soul He often talked of his great adventures Though these were all so trivial
He taught me to rejoice the morning Savor the smell of the springtime wind Embrace the day as a celebration For it's all vanity in the end
Well I don't know-if I believed him Surely he was quite sincere in the convictions that he held But when he died-I still remember I saw a smile upon his face It broke my heart to see it shine Could it be he changed his mind In the end after all….?
© j. Wilford, 3/95