To live in the shadow of tomorrow, Is to be the slave of today, To grasp at ghostly phantoms, Is to let our gold slip away.  Now seems to last forever, When will tomorrow come? All clocks can stop their ticking, Today we have right now. This life can zip right past you, When your head is stuck in the clouds, So all you’ll have are memories, Between times you pulled the string. Tomorrow came, tomorrows gone, What do you have left? What do you have left?

2.  Once Upon A Time

Acoustic Instrumental.

3.  Dreamers Photograph

She had hopes, she had dreams she had dreams and wishes, she did not wonder if they would ever come true, she believed they would.  She had glassy blue eyes, she had glassy blue eyes, she always had a smile and something to look to - her dreams.  Her hair was wavy and, wavy and golden, she always had a smile and something to look to - her dreams.  Like a baby bird confident that it could fly,  like a young tree who knew it would grow large.

4.  This Old Guitar

He hitchhiked to Houston, said he had to get away, From the things that held him there, the simplicity of day to day, The bag of his belongings was lost on the dusty road, All he has is a guitar to call his heavy load. He camped outside in Austin; it seems he couldn’t get a ride, His case becomes his pillow; the skies are opened wide, He now become another, weary stranger on the street, With a dusty old guitar dying to be in need. Maybe in the darkness something can be seen, Maybe in his hands this old guitar can sing. He strums a tune in the starlight, A song about your name, It’s a long journey home and, Home won’t ever be the same.

5.  Grave Marked Unknown

One little girl, lost in a crowd, The pain in her eyes has been locked far away, She’s a little yellow daisy who’s lost all of it’s pedals, To exchange for a crimson rose. She’s the one who’s been told, How to look, how to think, how to walk in a line, how to live, She’s an empty canvas with an open invitation to splotch paint wherever you will. She’s the quiet conformer, left empty inside, she’s mechanically prepared for her next command, But the tears in her heart will not be disclosed until she’s already died of thirst. The things in her heart are only her own, an uncertain reality only God knows. So she’ll march in a line and not voice complaint, she’ll parrot remarks as she’s lost in the dark, walking down slippery stairs. Her epitaph reads “the one no-one knew” and a shriveled brown rose lies all alone, Once she could be something her own, not a simple reflection of her company, But now by her grave stone, a yellow daisy has grown to reflect the grave marked unknown.

6.  Praise The Lord

Psalms 146-150

7.  Angels Fly

It’s a barren wasteland, his weary soul, Hopes and dreams unrealized, love still known, If humility is honored by something more than praise, It’s evident in his eyes, shining through the darkness and haze.  As relatives see him now, this time could be their last, A life of love for all about, slowly turns to darkened glass, As he walks this road he is not alone, angels wings are spread on high, Never deserted or abandoned, he smiles as angels fly. Each breath he takes uncertainly, through his oxygen tank, Each day he lives, an offering, to give for Jesus' sake, Today the visitor at his bedside, through the darkest night has shone, His face finds peace as angels fly, never to be left alone.  Angels fly, into the darkened night so dim, Angels fly, to renew the strength in him, Angels fly, when knees about grow frail, Angels fly, Angels fly.

8.  Silent Stranger

He walks without eyes, empty inside, No shelter to claim, no friend to confide, All alone in a room, where hope can be found, Where praises are sung and callused knees fall down. The people enter in, in pairs too large for him, As he’s there in despair, ignorance becomes their sin, He heard the church bells ring, half a dozen miles away, And thought he’d give it just one chance for his years now gone away.  If a man is known, by those who follow, He’s now become the vast unknown, With no love left to share, or maybe they don’t care, For the silent stranger… all alone.  He has found no hope in them, little more than solemn stares Across the sanctuary that seldom dart his way, The only scriptures that he read, had nothing to say, Unnoticed, uncared for, he turns and walks away.

9.  On The Way

He walks slow down a long cold road, Laden with a fresh coat of snow, He stops to give a poor boy his money, On the way to his company. Its spring, his car broke down again, A boy’s kite gets caught in the wing, He stops to get out of a tree, On the way to his company.  Summer has hit in full strength, He gives someone the rest of his drink, Because he wasn’t quite as thirsty, On the way to his company.  In fall with a box full of clothes, Shorts and T-shirts now outgrown, He sends it to a man for free, On the way to his company. In heaven in front of the King, He says “I don’t recall meeting your need, When you were in prison, in need, For you I’ve done no good deed.” Then Jesus turns to him, every tear fades, He says “I was the hand who couldn’t quite pay, And you weren’t well off but you gave anyway, You gave it to me, On the way to your company.

10.  Drifting Away

She used to dance, used to cry and laugh, To sing her praise, with all her strength and life, But now it has turned to distant past, Who stole the tears from your eyes? Her heart grows hard, as the years fly past, As hard as the concrete, as sharp as broken glass, Now so conformed, still He can tell, She’s still that small child who knew Him so well.  His precious child, flower in the rain, Her growing is hard, but it causes him the pain, Where her eyes of love, gazing to the sky? How does it feel, to watch You’re child slip by? A callused heart, all emotion gone, She has forgotten, what is right and wrong, A tear falls, in the form of rain, As shadows rest, she slowly drifts away.  Who stole the tears from your eyes? The sun has set, when again with it rise? And shine. 

11.  Slave Of Today Refrain

To live in the shadow of tomorrow, Is to be the slave of today, To grasp at ghostly phantoms, Is to let our gold slip away.  Tomorrow came, tomorrows gone, What do you have left? What do you have left?