King

In the Spring of ‘68
The bullets rose from a sea of hate
In Memphis town they gunned him down
And the hope of a nation went underground
Blue skies full of holes, I cried beside the radio
It’s all a lie, the King can’t die
But there’s blood in the shadows
My world shattered like a window

The days are hard
The journey seems so long
I hear him calling, calling to carry on

Silent moon above an angry tide
His ghost looks back from the mountainside
A restless force
A riderless horse
Is standing ‘neath the pale stars
And stamping on the graveyard

The days are hard
The journey seems so long
I hear him calling, calling to carry on

The march goes on inside my heart
Someday free at last …

A garden grows in my backyard
I walk out there when the wind blows hard
A time for Spring, a time for kings
And I will stand on that Memphis street
And hear the triumph of his heartbeat

The days are hard
I struggle to stay strong
I hear him calling, calling to carry on
The work goes on
The dream will come to pass
I hear him calling, calling, calling …

Free at last …