She was standing on the edge of a cornfield, empty and brown
That’s how the wise godly man saw her
In the vision he had, holy inspiration all around
A single stalk, upright and alone
One of the few not chopped
By that devil farmer’s blade
A noble thing it would be
If she stood because of faith, like she ought to have
Rather than the fear that held her there back then
Go break it down, churn up the ground
Next she’s found sitting on the edge of a stage
Faith further fading, or not?
The clock and years keep moving
But the chains of her own making
Rust and hold her there like a cage
Doesn’t she know there is no practice round?
She watches babies arrive and then a baby’s father dies
Chances to grow come and go, life starts aching
Sure she can eat her hard feelings
But it only squanders her dime
Never mind enlarging her waistline
Go break it down, churn up the ground
Now she’s standing on the edge of something new, wild and uncharted
But it’s foggy and hard to see, what is just beyond reach or beneath?
Could be great things ahead, she can’t know until it’s started
Or she could trip and fall
Even to crush the grit of the earth between her teeth
In reality, she’ll probably do it all
Dreams seem clouded over
By disaster, malfunction, and politics awry
Is it worth the trouble? That it is she must believe
Go break it down, churn up the ground
Standing on the edge is outdated, no more time to cry
She won’t fear the mist, she can’t let it win
God please take her hand
She’s ready to go
Jump the edge
It’s time to fly
Fading Blue Owl 