‘Buried in the Mix’

Adam and Eve original sin conceived,
They turned away, and they died that day
Leaving only God to grieve.
They felt the chill of life outside God’s will.
Now guilty refugees, they hide among the trees,
And we are hiding still.

When volume is your choice
How can you hear the still small voice.
Clear the loft space in your head,
‘Coss the Word of God’s not dead …
Just, buried in the mix.

How can we hide or fill the hole inside?
Your hope abandon not a leg to stand on,
When God and man collide..
Treble and bass can graphically erase
Ideals youthful, and conscience truthful,
And flood the empty space.

Cradle to grave our hungry senses crave
The sights and the sounds, but ignore the profound;
Pursuit of trivia enslaved.
Music everywhere. No time to think, no time to spare.
You left the Dolby on and the whispered meaning’s gone.
So you don’t stand a prayer.

Composer: Robert Bathurst/Simon Bartlett

Lyricist: Martin Day
© M Day 16-Jul-1987 (verse 2  © M Day 19-May-1989)