Wolves - Phosphorescent

Mama, there's wolves in the house.

Mama, they won't let me out.

Mama, they're mating at night.

And mama, they won't make nice...

They're pacing and glowing bright,

Their faces all snowy and white.

They bury their paws in the stone,

And make for my heart as their home.

They tumble and fight, and they're beautiful.

On the hilltops at night, they are beautiful.

Blazing with light, is the whitest and the tallest and the biggest one.

She's muscled and fine when she runs.

They're tearing up holes in the house...

They're tearing their claws in the grout

Staring with blood in their mouths.

Mama, they won't let me out.

Mama there's wolves in the house.

Mama I tried to put them out.

Mama I know you're too wise,

To wait until those wolves make nice.

Bearing Witness

I swore to miracles I have not seen,...

From ancient autographs I cannot read.

Though I reject it, I'm still tempted, I admit,...

But that's not what bearing witness is.

Too full of fear and prophecy to see

The revelation right in front of me.

So sick and tired of trying to make the pieces fit,

Cause that's not what bearing witness is.

When the gap between what I hoped would be and what is makes me weep for my kids,

I take a cleansing breath, and make a positive confession,

But is that what bearing witness is?

Though it may alienate your family,

And blur the lines of your identity,

Let go of what you know and honor what exists,

Son that's what bearing witness is.

Daughter that's what bearing witness is.