I wrote some lyrics on my other blog and thought I'd share them here. The title and inspiration for the lyrics come from a short story by Nathaniel Hawthorne.
"Y. G. B."
Youngster stern of conscience cold,
Once you felt for Faith's embrace,
Flying her train forthwith to heaven,
Till tarrying took its toll on you,
And lower thoughts became your leaven.
Rising in the dark, dark night fell,
Fell father's son, son of perdition,
Tradition marks your race,
Kept apace now graces gone,
Lost for good with a parting kiss.
See you now your idols wrought,
Bought in secret whispers soft,
Their own sins you see,
But not with eyes to see,
Not with hopes to flee,
Idols they at last shall be.
Rising in the day, day light falls,
Falling grand, father's son still,
Guilty vision colors your face,
Kept in disgrace now graces gone,
Lost for good in your dream's remiss.
Goodman gone without a word,
Unmarked stone stays the heart,
Pining away for fearful opining,
Your heart, like stone, hardened,
Unpardoned in its seething silence.
Rising in the sound, sound advice to all,
All who would heed, he'd speak out still,
Guilty goodmen can yet find grace,
Kept in goody Faith's embrace,
Found fastened with pink ribbon lace.