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• Artiste: Neal Morse
• Titre: Freak
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My tongue is the pen of a ready writer; I've got so much to say I'm not schizophrenic I just haven't had my medicine today People they act like they've never seen a king before But when I just am that I am they tell me “there's the door" Cause I am a freak A riddle The kind you love too little I am the one you call "the other" You can't take home to mother I am the angst Provider The ultimate outsider And I’m not welcome where the work is Not in your homes or in your churches... My tongue is the pen and I feel inspired unusually today My bed at the bridge kept me warm all night til the sky turned cold and gray At noon on the corner I shout out words they can't ignore But nobody sees they're too busy making money, kids and war But I am a freak A riddle The kind you trust too little I am the one you call “the other" You can't take home to mother I am the angst Provider The ultimate outsider And I'm not welcome where the work is Not in your homes or in your churches... Cry me a river With an ocean all around So many strangers live right among you now There right here right now But I am a freak A riddle I may have just a little But I might be a savior or a brother A someone's long lost mother Maybe I'm not like the scriptures And I don’t fit your pictures But maybe an angel’s come between us Who knows? I might be Jesus... I am a freak A riddle The kind you love too little I am the one you call "the other" You can’t take home to mother I am the angst Provider The ultimate outsider But maybe an angel's come between us Who knows? I might be Jesus...