Be the dream of many men
From lowly to
the saint
Shine within the midnight sky
And pictures that we paint
Some of us have lust in mind
And hunger in our heart
It burns and bites deep within
And tears our soul apart
Others claim in holy tone
Of thoughts as white as snow
We raise our voice and pound our fist
When the truth is finally known
Look for me between the two
Humble, maybe meek
For fantasies are all I have
I keep from week to week
Copyright 1998, RKWoodward