The Line


Uploaded by sojotube on 02.10.2012

Transcript:
- The have and the have-nots.
The line.
The place the people on the bottom
are trying to get to
and the place the people on the top
are trying to keep from going below.
They don't want to look below it, either,
'cause they don't want to see what's down there,
because that'll make them feel too guilty
about being above it.
- The line is the firing line
at which people face survival or death,
and sometimes the person holding the gun
is their neighbor,
and sometimes it's their congressman
or their alderman,
who's not doing enough to help them.
- The line is where you were always
in the position to give,
to give help, and then for the first time,
this line of,
"I've gone from being somebody who could help
to being somebody who needs help."
- There's a certain amount of pride
that comes in being independent,
and there's a certain amount of shame
that comes into having to beg
for every little thing that you get.
- $23,000 is no money, nearly,
and yet I could still see families
who make $35,000
who are still poor,
who are still about to lose their home,
who still can't afford groceries.
- When you start trying to tell people about poverty,
they start making excuses and making heartless statements
about why people are in poverty,
and they don't even have a clue.
They don't even have a clue.
- Some of the most prevalent and damaging stereotypes
about poor people are that they're lazy,
that they're stupid,
they don't have any skills,
prefer poverty,
that they can't take care of their families.
- Poor people are working harder
just trying to keep their heads above water
than we can even imagine.
It's just--it's hard.
- It doesn't matter if you have to stand in line
and kind of feel bad about yourself
that you're a failure.
You have to cross that line
to be able to keep the lights on,
to be able to keep feeding your kids.
- That could be you without a house,
wondering if they're going to go and put you out,
but for the grace of God.
Because a lot of these people had jobs,
have degrees,
did everything right,
but the bottom fell out,
and that bottom was that line.
They went below that line.
- DuPage County is considered one of the richest counties
in the state of Illinois,
probably one of the top 50 counties in the country
as far as per capita income.
So there are a lot of well-educated
middle-class, upper-middle-class people that live here.
There's also the part of the county
that people don't talk about.
There's the about 10% of the population
that lives at or below the federal poverty line.
- Morning. How you doing?
- Good morning.
- There you go. You're all set.
- Thank you. Just have a seat over there?
Okay. Thanks.
I remember the first time that I tried to go,
I just couldn't do it.
I drove there, and I sat there,
and I couldn't get out of the car.
And the second time, I got out of the car.
I went in line and then just got
either impatient or just sort of embarrassed
and just kind of walked away,
because you just don't want to admit
that you're that defeated.
- John?
- You've been brought up never to be a charity case,
never to have to ask for help,
and all of a sudden, you're in that position
where you got nowhere else to go,
and it's hard.
- And you're here for food pantry today.
- Right. - Okay.
And you have a birthday bag for Jason.
- Yes. - Good.
All right, how old is Jason?
- He's going to be 12.
- Suburban poverty is now
a currently higher rate than urban poverty.
It's been a tidal wave over the last five years.
Whereas maybe before, it was a trickle,
now it's just suddenly, you know,
people standing outside the door of the food pantry
waiting for us to open.
There's a desperation, and all the organizations
haven't been ready to deal
with the numbers of people coming through their doors.
Private organizations are a drop in the bucket
compared to the federal assistance programs.
And so I think there's got to be a partnership.
We certainly know that we have a responsibility
to do the job that we're doing,
and we want to do the job we're doing,
but we can't do it alone.
We need the resources of the government to help.
- So you said two from here?
- Right.
- And then one from here? - It's one from each of these.
- Okay. - Fruit cocktail.
- Okay.
- Applesauce.
- All right.
One box of cereal?
- Yeah, one box. - Okay. All right.
Should I go healthy
or what the kids like?
- Everyone comes here.
It's people that have grown up in poverty
to people that had six-figure jobs
that were running companies
that have lost their jobs,
so they're at the end of their rope,
and they end up here
because they don't have anywhere else to turn.
- I'm 48 years old,
and I have three kids.
Single dad.
Got a daughter who's 17
and two sons.
They're 14 and 11,
going to be 12 on Wednesday.
- Hi, how are you?
You get two pieces from here.
- Okay.
All right.
I was in banking,
a senior vice president making six figures.
I was very comfortable.
Then the last bank I was at was acquired.
Went off on my own and started to organize banks
kind of at the perfect wrong time
in a perfect storm,
and kind of everything fell apart from that.
- Baked ham for sandwiches. - Okay.
- We also have baked turkey in the back there.
- My wife at that time filed for divorce
'cause we were in an affluent town.
Kind of the stress of all of it
took its toll on our marriage,
and pretty much, that was it.
I had to decide what I was going to do
with the rest of my life.
I'd always, in the back of my mind,
thought about teaching.
My mom was a teacher.
My grandmother was a teacher.
My sister's a teacher.
So I kind of thought,
"Well, maybe this is my signal
to make that transition."
Sometimes you just feel like you're sending your résumé
into a black hole.
You know, you talk, you know, to a principal,
or you follow up, and they're like,
"You know, we've got 4,000 applicants."
And you're like, "Okay, how do I get noticed?
How do I do anything?"
Pretty much, I've been on my own for two years,
trying to make by on substitute teaching income,
trying to make by on any tutoring income
I can get on the side.
In substitute teaching,
you're looking at $85 to $100 a day,
depending if you get called in to work that day,
and usually, it's last-minute.
You know, you may get a phone call
at 5:30 in the morning.
You know, for me, you know, best case,
if I'm working almost every day, I can make $12,000.
That would be the best I could do.
I never thought I would be in that position.
I, you know, was a straight-A student.
I got a high ACT,
went to a great school,
graduated high honors.
Everything is roses.
Everything's perfect in your life.
Ah, coffee.
Always--
always desperate for coffee.
You have to work really hard
to find the way to get by.
The government isn't really seeking you out to say,
"We want to help you get you back on your feet."
- All the bread you want.
- All the bread? Okay. All right.
- As much as you want from here or in the bins.
- I mean, I'm insulted if somebody says,
"Ah," you know, "John, you're just lazy.
"You're just not trying.
You just don't care."
You know, I'm like, "I care.
I care more than anybody."
Thank you very much.
It's sort of like being at a grocery store
where not everything's been put on the shelf,
but you just have to do the best you can
and hope you get enough
that can help you to get through each month.
So you kind of put your own choices
to the back burner, because, you know,
you just have to try to look and say,
"What do you really need?"
- I think that there's a real divide in this country
and that people are struggling.
The people that maybe are sort of untouched
by the recession think that,
"Oh, well, you know, unemployment is going down,
"and, you know, things are starting to look up.
Businesses are starting to hire people."
They're not seeing those people
that have really, really been struggling
for a long, long time.
- You have to make choices sometimes
about what bills you're going to pay.
I mean, I've had my gas shut off.
I've had my electric shut off.
It's horrifying, and it's embarrassing
when your kids go to turn on something
and it doesn't work.
It's the most horrible feeling in the world.
Kids just don't get it,
and I think that's been the hardest thing
is just to answer the questions.
You know, my youngest son will just say,
"Dad, when are you going to get your car fixed?"
You know, and it's like, "Well, when I can," you know?
You know, I have gotten used to checking
for the expiration date.
Sometimes, you know,
you just got to be careful.
I mean, not that you're angry.
You're grateful that you get what you get,
but, you know, one time,
I got, like, some Velveeta that somebody donated
that was, like, five years old,
and it was like a black brick.
But I'm hoping that I can hold on
for at least another year, maybe two.
My kids, at the age they are, you know,
I really want to be around for them,
so moving isn't an option for me.
I just feel like I've aged so much.
It's like a constant kind of throbbing
in your mind of, like,
"What am I going to do?"
I don't want to worry about this anymore.
But you just don't know how to stop it.
You're doing everything that every person says
is the right thing to do,
the right steps to follow,
but it's not happening.
And what if it doesn't happen?
What if it doesn't happen fast enough?
- I do think that a lot of the violence
and a lot of what is going on right now
is associated with people who are living
with posttraumatic stress disorder.
Trauma is simply a shift,
a sudden shift in the ways
in which we understand life and make meaning.
Trauma in a psychological or a more psychosocial
sort of sense in which,
"I'm poor now.
"Wow.
What am I supposed to do?"
Or the other experience of people
who have lived in poverty their entire life,
and their mother did, and their grandmother did,
and their grandmother's grandmother did.
So there have been generations of poverty,
and theirs is a more deeper trauma
which is affiliated with this sort of nihilism
or this sense of meaninglessness and hopelessness that says,
"We will always be this way.
This will always be the case."
- We're on Monroe and Pulaski,
and it's considered K-Town from Pulaski to Laramie
because of the Karlov, Keeler, all the Ks.
And this is where I grew up,
in this house, with my family,
my father, my mother, my two sisters,
and three brothers.
My sister was going to play for a church,
which was about a block that way
and about two blocks over.
And she was walking.
It was late, around 10:00 or so.
She was coming down around the corner.
She was shot and killed.
She was shot in the head and killed.
Police never came, you know what I mean?
They came for that night,
but there was never an investigation.
So far as I'm concerned,
they never found out who actually killed her.
But that destroyed our family, pretty much.
That was the beginning of the end
of the family that we knew.
Just one bullet,
and we never recovered.
One bullet, you know?
And we never recovered.
I think the thing that bothers me the most
is that my sister wasn't a statistic.
She had a name.
She had a family.
She had people that loved her,
who depended on her for their survival--
literally for their survival, emotionally.
And it's hard for me even to come down this block.
It was a long time
that I could even drive down this block,
because I always think about the day
that I heard the bullet.
[dramatic hip-hop music]
- [rapping] It's crazy in these streets
And it's hard right now to start judging
But when you get enough pain and it's been enough tears
Get to wondering if God still loves us
So I go by J.Kwest,
and my music is what my ministry is.
It's around helping people understand that you're human
and that you have a ton of possibility
and a ton of potential inside of you,
and we need to hear that more
in these communities of poverty.
People are killing each other for some very plain reasons,
because whether they're poor or not
in terms of a quantitative measurement,
they feel poor.
They feel like they need more.
They feel less than human.
They feel offended by their government.
They feel offended by their neighbor.
[rapping] It's easy to complain
If it's crazy, it's a world we created
We can change it
- It's like my dreams are out of reach
This pain and all this grief
If you see God and you happen to speak
Tell Him it's crazy in these streets
Feel my pain, it is so deep
- Most of the young people where I grew up in K-Town,
they didn't expect to live past 18, 20,
because their friends are dying,
like, you know, around them,
like this is literally a war.
They never know from one day to the next
if you're going to wake up
and your friend is going to be gone
or if it's going to be you.
So there is no hope.
You know why they're not so keen on education?
Because education means you plan to have a future.
They don't plan to have a future.
They think that the streets are going to kill them.
That's their reality.
One of my first jobs was working at a bank downtown,
and when I would say to people
where I came from, where I lived,
they would be so shocked.
"Really? You lived over there?"
Because they don't expect
people from K-Town or certain areas
to be able to get out and get good jobs
and to actually look like success.
I was one of the youngest supervisors at the bank.
I mean, I didn't have my first child till I was 30.
I didn't have to depend on anyone.
And all the bottom fell out in one fall.
It just-- all the bottom fell out.
There was a screw.
My boot got caught in the screw,
and I fell headfirst
14 feet into a wall.
I broke my arm in two-- two places.
I knocked my brain into my spinal column,
so it's caused me to start having strokes.
I ended up having to have brain surgery
where they had to take a big piece of my skull out
so my brain could breathe.
It took me 15, 20 years
to finally get back to where I could be up and around.
And keep in mind that I had a seven-month-old,
a two-year-old, and a six-year-old.
I knew I needed to leave,
to move out of that neighborhood,
when my son turned seven.
- See, I had a lot of fun as a child
running up and down the block.
I didn't realize that I was around
one of the biggest drug operations
right behind my house.
There was a lot of stuff
being sold in and out through there.
They'd ask me to take something to someone else.
You know, I've done that in the building,
and I didn't even realize what I was doing.
I was just delivering, you know, thinking,
"Hey, they asked me to take this down."
- Some of these little boys, I knew were bad news.
He didn't, but I knew.
This house that we live in now
used to belong to my parents.
And then when my father passed,
the house was just too much for my mother to handle,
so my sister and my brother, myself,
we all moved out here to live with my mom,
and together, we made it a community home,
which is what, you know, quite often happens
when people are trying to, you know,
get out of a bad situation.
Right after-- about a year after my accident,
I realized that I would not be the same,
and I went on disability,
and disability gave me $1,000.
It was--at that time, it was, like, $900 a month.
I had three children.
They gave me $900 a month for me,
and they gave me $122, I think, for each child.
Keep in mind, that's to pay my rent.
I had food stamps, but it wasn't a lot,
so a lot of times, we would run out of food stamps.
- All the stuff in there.
- It's not that much stuff in here.
- Yeah, but it's not as organized as it should be,
for the whole world to see.
Giving my children hope--
that was the hard part,
because they went to a private school,
so they lived with all these people who had,
who were very well-off,
who drove nice cars,
whose parents were giving them credit cards
to spend carte blanche.
And then they came back here, and I'm saying,
"Nope, we don't buy name-brand gym shoes.
"Nope, we're not going out to eat.
We got to do whatever Mama's got to cook."
It was disappointing from a mother's point,
because I wanted to give them the best,
and I always thought, when I had my children,
I was going to be able to shower them.
That was my desire, as, I think, most parents.
That was my desire, but I wasn't able to do that.
- I was born and raised in this little town
called Davant, Louisiana,
in 1945.
Just about everyone in this community
had done fishing of one type or another,
either crab fishing or shrimping or oystering,
at least part-time.
It was a wonderful way to make a living.
God gave us a heaven here, a gold mine.
It was there for the taking.
Anyone that wanted to make a good, honest living
could do it.
All they needed was a strong back
and a little bit of brains.
No matter what time of year it was,
you were either shrimping, crabbing, dredging oysters.
A person that didn't have any work
could come to this marina,
go by the conveyors
where they were unloading in the evening,
and, "Hey, I need a job."
"Okay, show up here tomorrow morning."
You had a job.
The people of this area--
this entire area--
depend on the environment.
They depend on what God gave us,
and God gave us a lot down here,
but we didn't know how to take care of it.
- [man singing] Dust of fallen empires
Slowly flowing
Through my hands
- Had someone told me ten years ago
that this place would be this dormant,
I'd never believe it.
I never would have believed it.
But it's happened, and it's happened so quickly.
It's just unimaginable.
I don't know if it's because of the natural disaster
that we had with Katrina
or the oil spill.
The natural resources are not there anymore.
The coastline is washing away.
There's places that,
when I was in high school,
we used to go out and hunt rabbits,
and now those places don't exist.
They're all water.
They're gone completely,
completely gone.
It's a minimum, on average,
of three years
before that oyster is ready for the market,
to be harvested.
Next year, there'll be no oysters.
For three years, there won't be any oysters.
And this year,
we had a very low harvest of shrimp.
So what's going to happen?
I don't know.
I don't have any confidence in the future.
Unless we get a drastic change--
a sudden change--
in the amount of seafood
and the prices,
there's no way that I can continue to do this
and survive with it,
because all I'm doing now
is losing money, you know?
Just can't do it.
The numbers don't add up.
They just don't add up.
Okay.
I don't worry about myself that much.
It's only just me and Bonnie.
We'll survive.
But my children, I worry about.
I worry about my children.
This community--
I've seen a change not only with income,
but I can see a change in the people.
The people that are still here
are not happy anymore.
The people were always jolly.
They didn't worry about tomorrow.
Tomorrow was taken care of.
And now everyone's worried.
Everyone--they-- they're all stressed.
Catholic Charities was here up until last week
paying people's utilities for them.
They couldn't pay them.
And now they're gone.
They left last week.
So a lot of these families that were dependent on that,
they don't even have that now.
So in this great United States, believe it or not,
we're going to have people down here
that are going to have their electricity cut off,
and they're going to be living that way.
I hope that it gets better,
but deep down inside,
being realistic,
I don't see it.
It's just a culture-- the whole culture--
the whole culture is gone.
- Poverty is struggling to make things work.
When you have to struggle paycheck to paycheck,
that's poverty.
You try to fight yourself out of it,
but you can't.
You can't.
I was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York,
with my two sisters and my brother,
my mother, and my father
until my father decided to just leave the house
and leave us by ourselves,
which hurt my mother mentally and got her unstable.
We would have never survived
if welfare didn't approve us
and we were getting food stamps every month, and--no.
Me by myself, I wouldn't have been able to do it,
and I had to give up going to college.
Went down to the racetrack in New York City
with a friend of mine,
started hot-walking horses coming off the track,
and that's where I started working,
which was at the racetrack,
and turned around and did it for 22 years.
[laughs]
It was every day,
365 days a year, and that was it.
There was never a day off.
I came here to North Carolina
after I stopped working at the racetrack,
and when you come off of that, everybody's like,
"Okay, so what skill do you have?"
It's like, you really don't.
You know, I had a skill
of putting horses on the racetrack.
I was in the shelter three months.
It's a hard thing, because North Carolina--
the unemployment rate is 9.4%.
It's one of the highest in the United States.
Being in the shelter, I wasn't ashamed of it.
I did it on my own.
I wasn't there because I used drugs,
because I was an alcoholic.
I refused to sleep in the street.
I wasn't going to get put in jail
for sleeping in the street.
Every day, I used to get up, get dressed,
and go out to look for a job and stuff like that.
And then when I found out about Jim Noble's restaurant
and the church services that they have here
and I introduced myself.
- [woman singing] It started
Like a rumble
Growing louder
Every day
The same
Kind of trouble
Always finds you
- It is a 501(c) faith-based, not-for-profit restaurant.
That's unusual.
In fact, there's not been many done like this,
I don't think.
And it really has two parts.
One is to help raise money from a nonprofit setting.
We give all the profits away to help feed the poor.
Secondly, King's Kitchen restoration program,
which is a discipleship--
life-changing program to help people
get back on their feet
through on-the-job training, obviously,
Bible study, and discipleship.
Even though it's a ministry, we also are a restaurant,
and we have to compete, and we have to execute,
and we have to run the restaurant right,
or the whole thing would fall.
And this is not an easy industry to be in anyway.
Restaurant business is tough.
- In front of you.
Beside you.
I came here, and I volunteered here,
and they threw me as a dishwasher.
I've never worked in a restaurant before.
Cole, we got a four-top getting up.
And it shocked everybody how fast I pick it up.
When I put my mind to something
that I really want to do,
I know I can do it.
I'll come with a big tray.
[phone rings]
Thank you for calling King's Kitchen this afternoon.
This is James. How can I assist you?
One day, Chef Jesse came up to me.
He goes, "We all came together, and we're hiring you."
I said, "You're kidding."
He goes, "You start tomorrow."
Would you like me to take your plate from you?
- Thank you, yes.
- Was everything okay?
- It was.
- Please come back.
And when I started working here,
they worked with my hours down at the shelter.
They saved me a bed.
And when I got my first paycheck,
I looked in the paper and saw this place
and took the bus down there,
filled out the application,
and it was a one-bedroom apartment ready,
and that was the last time the shelter saw me.
When I got off the bus,
I put my hand in my pocket,
and I had the keys to my own place.
And when I opened up the door,
I was like, "You're home."
The first thing that I did,
I called up my two sisters and my brother and,
"Your brother is-- your brother is just fine.
Your brother's fine."
And my sister goes, "You're out of the shelter?"
I said, "Yep."
I said, "I got my own place and everything."
Adam,
these are the only dishes
that don't match over here.
Eight months later, I'm still here.
I'm the head busboy.
Please come again.
I love working.
I don't stop.
When I come in in the morning,
I get here an hour before my shift starts.
How you doing? - Good.
- How's everything?
- Good.
- My income right now--
I would make in a year
between about $11,000 to $15,000.
People in poverty live in poverty-stricken areas.
People who have money
don't even go close to where those people live.
You think they worry
about who's living on the street?
No,
'cause they were never part of it.
And if you're not part of it,
why think about it?
Try to climb the ladder by yourself sometimes.
It's hard.
I don't judge people,
and I hope that people don't judge me,
and that's how I've always lived.
- I think hope is important
for people who are in poverty,
because that's the only thing
that's going to stop them from making a desperate move
to make life better.
If you have no hope
and you don't think Superman's coming,
you may jump yourself.
And when I say "jump," I don't mean killing yourself.
I mean making rash decisions and doing things
that may be even uncharacteristic for yourself
but because you're so desperate.
- We cannot be silent while that happens.
We cannot say, "Oh, well, that's on them."
No, systems need to be broken
to stop poverty too.
Policy needs to change in order to stop poverty,
and there need to be people in place
who can properly change policy to help poverty.
At the same time, there are people who are poor
who need to know that there's a way out of this
and need to know that they are more than their poverty,
because I believe that if we tell people
that they are better than they think they are
that they will do better than they think they can.
- [chorus singing] This is not the end
This is not the end of us
We will shine like the stars
Oh-oh, oh-oh
[music]
- Every other day, you'll see, like, gang violence
going on outside of the school or kids fighting,
but what really keep me calm
is either drawing or playing basketball.
[men speaking indistinctly]
- We bring young people in,
and most of them have already either dropped out
or are in situations
where they're not doing well in school.
- My life story.
Where I come from...
- This component
is around adding creativity to their life.
"Creativity" and "dignity," the two key words here
in saying, "Okay, you have not only something to learn
"in terms of math and science towards getting your GED,
"but you have a story to tell.
"You've seen something.
"And what I want to do is help you tell that story.
"We want to help you tell that story,
"because once you can tell that story,
"you can own your life.
You own your identity."
So helping them to tell those stories
is one way of giving them hope
in the midst of what they're going through.
Poor is not what you are.
Poor is part of what you are,
and it's a situation that can change.
- [chorus singing] Oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
[music]
- [woman singing] This is not the end
This is not the end of this
We will open our eyes
Wide, wider
[music]
This is not our last
This is not our last breath
We will open our mouths
- I started a nonprofit called Born to Be Light,
and I came up with a pledge.
Born to Be Light is a nonprofit organization
dedicated to the aggressive promotion of nonviolence,
and they take the pledge,
and the pledge is right on the front,
and it says,
"I wear this band
"to take a stand against violence.
"I pledge to be the change you see
"in my home and community,
because I'm a light."
So I go around to the schools
and communities and functions,
and I have the people wear the bands.
I have them take the pledge.
And it works.
It really works.
So I'm not just sitting back,
waiting for somebody to give me something.
I'm trying to help myself.
I'm trying to help my community.
I understand that people might look at me and say,
"Well, you're getting a handout.
You're on disability."
But I promise you, if I could be anything
but on disability, I would.
And I've done everything that I can do
to make myself better.
I've written a book.
I've gone back to school.
[singing] Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
I've done a CD.
I do outreach programs.
I do everything that I'm supposed to do.
So the fact that I'm still on disability
is through no fault of mine.
Since my accident, I haven't had one day
that I haven't had pain,
but it hasn't stopped me from going to school
and being on the Dean's List and a President's Scholar.
It hasn't stopped me.
- [chorus singing] This is not the end
This is not the end of us
We will shine like the stars
- I'm doing mechanics, you know.
I'm working--I do computers.
I do art and music.
I'm doing fire safety to try to become a fireman.
Though I am poor, I do not consider myself poor,
because I feel like
as long as there's a person watching over me,
as long as I'm connected with my family,
and as long as my legs and body work
and I'm able to go out and make some money,
there's no way that I will feel poor.
- [singing] Oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
[music]
[laid-back hip-hop music]
- [man singing] Oh
Oh
- [man rapping] Yeah
Advocates of the theocratic rule
We can't wait till it's all over
We going to a place much better
But in the meantime, we gonna hold it down
- [men singing] One day, I won't cry no more
Can't wait for the day when people won't die no more
Daddies won't say bye no more
Lie no more
In the streets, bullets won't fly no more
Won't feel no pain no more
Won't have to push, pull
Won't have to strain no more
Won't have to walk lame no more
Won't have to play the game no more
- [man rapping] One day, we're taking off, baby
And ever since the Lord saved me
I've been waiting for the day
We can say it's all gravy
It's all crazy
Trying to see life when it's all hazy
And how can I persist to do right
When I'm all lazy
Feel me
Too much pain, it all ails me
Vexed 'cause I can feel the effects
Of the fall daily
Pain in my chest is strong
Let's get on
Come, Lord, quick
Bring on Your eschaton
End the search
Start the new Earth, flex Your true worth
Honor Your Son, let Him come
Perfect the new birth
And we don't got to prove that God is cool
Just know when God is through, no more godless rule
So I'm anxious to praise the Ancient of Days
My brain's still amazed
at how I can see that pain is a phase
Soon to be eclipsed at the Son's return
When we get what He gives and not what we earn
One day, I won't cry no more...
[fly buzzing]