The Lord is my shepherd
But I’m still in need. My God,
My soul’s in turmoil and the
Paths of righteousness remain
Untrod. To tell the truth, if I tell at all
I’m sick and tired of my back
Being up against the wall.
Yes I’ve walked through the valley
Of the shadow of death. I’ve seen
The devil and felt his breath
Upon my face in that dreary place.
No sign of rod, no sign of staff,
And pastures green,
You’re having a laugh.
Dry deserts, just deserts.
I’d have killed for a soothing glass
Of still waters, I could hardly hear
For the raging torrent in my ear.
The table’s set let’s have a feast
My enemies will be pleased and
Well fed too at my expense. Blood
Sugar’s low I’m on my knees and
Waiting for the oil to bring release.
But once again I hear you cry, 'He
Doesn’t know his cup is dry. And
Surely goodness and mercy have
Passed him by.'
Copyright (c) Chris Gallagher