Mark Heard The Dry Bones Dance
Everybody's living in the brave new earth
Prisoners of the small worlds that orbit in our skulls
Native sons of a no-man's land
Friends and lovers in the cold, cold ground
Every now and then I seem to dream these dreams
Where the mute ones speak and the deaf ones sing
Touching that miraculous circumstance
Where the blind ones see and the dry bones dance
Everyone surrenders to the brave new scarecrows
And waits for them to hand us cigarettes and blindfolds
All lined up for the firing squad
Paper fills the cracks of the Wailing Wall
Every now and then I seem to dream these dreams
Where the dead ones live and the hurt ones heal
Touching that miraculous circumstance
Where the blind ones see and the dry bones dance
And I'm gone, gone, gone
Carried away by the midnight wind
And I long, long, long
For a world without end
The kind of thing that I've never seen
but in my dreams
Spend your life and live to tell
tarnished coins in the wishing well
Every now and then I seem to dream those dreams
Where the orphans suckle and the slaves go free
Touching that miraculous circumstance
Where the blind ones see and the dry bones dance
