Lyrics...

Was listening to Steve Bell's album of Bruce Cockburn covers the other day, and was caught by the last verse of the song "Pacing the Cage."

Sometimes the best map will not guide you
You can't see what's round the bend
Sometimes the road leads through dark places
Sometimes the darkness is your friend
Today these eyes scan bleached-out land
For the coming of the outbound stage
Pacing the cage
Pacing the cage

My friend Andrea played a song for me after a coffee date one night about a month or so ago... the lyrics caught me, reminded me of a person I used to know, one I'd bumped into that night... I've listened to the song a few times again these last few days (it was on the mix cd she gave me on the weekend...) the lyrics are still catching me, reminding me of so many broken young women I've been or continue to be involved with...

i see her wander around, princess without her crown, stumblin' and fallin' down beneath her burden. she's floating through our town, bride without her gown, passin' her heart around to numb the hurting.

she's scared of coming home, she's been so long alone, she's stat upon her throne, until it crumbled, now she's got to choose, she's nothing left to lose, she's battered and she's bruised and feeling humbled as saying her prayers to no-one.

who is her brother, who is her keeper? where is her lover, can anyone reach her? cup of cold water, in the name of the Father, sending a letter to the prodigal daughter.

now where is love everyone, for all the one's who mourn, for those who suffer scorn and have no father. maybe to bless not curse, maybe the last not first, maybe the ones who thirst, will find the water.

her lover sees inside, He sees with lovers eyes, He sees a radiant bride, with passion burning. everything's upside down, her rags become her gown, her scars become her crown with no returning and i sing my song to you baby!

who is her brother, who is her keeper? where is her lover, can anyone reach her? a cup of cold water, in the name of the Father, sending a letter to the prodigal daughter.

By: Andrew Smith