This is a song I wrote, um, a few years ago.
Well, it's not that one, it's another one. I hope you can adjust.
It's another one.
It's called Blessed Are.
Blessed are the one-way ticket holders
On a one-way street
Blessed are the midnight riders
For in the shadow of God they sleep
Blessed are the huddled hikers
Staring out at falling rain
Wondering at the retribution
And their personal acquaintance with pain
Blessed are the blood relations
Of the young ones who have died
Who had not the time or patience
To carry on this earthly ride
Rain will come and winds will blow
Wild deer die in the mountain snow
Birds will bleed at heaven's wall
What comes to one must come to us all
You and I are one-way ticket holders
On a one-way street
Which lies across a golden valley
Where the waters of joy and hope run deep
So if you pass the parents weeping
Of the young ones who have died
Take them to your warmth and keeping
For blessed are the tears they've cried
And many were the years they tried
Take them to that valley wide
And let their souls be pacified