Stories from the Exile
Words, music and arrangements by Vincent Lockhart
Words, music and arrangements by Vincent Lockhart
The Angel
Fontem, Cameroon
Fontem, Cameroon
Stories from the Exile - The Angel
Beneath the sun,
beneath the moon,
beneath the Southern Cross.
Within the swirling clouds,
within the forest deep.
From here to there and back
will only cause you pain
until you learn to pick the pieces up
and start again.
And here
amid our weakness and our fears.
And here
amid our broken dreams and tears.
The angel blows his horn.
And sometimes
I’m not sure who they want me to be.
I’m spinning like a star
around some dark mystery.
To stand before the face of God
and clearly see
the hardest gift of all to take
is his mercy.
And here
amid our weakness and our fears.
And here
amid our broken dreams and tears.
The angel blows his horn.
And though the dreams you had
have danced away from you.
And though each day bring fears
that you must stumble through.
Though you must journey now
in a way that only you can do,
perhaps you can lean upon the love
that we all have for you.
And here
amid our weakness and our fears.
And here
amid our broken dreams and tears.
The angel blows his horn.
beneath the moon,
beneath the Southern Cross.
Within the swirling clouds,
within the forest deep.
From here to there and back
will only cause you pain
until you learn to pick the pieces up
and start again.
And here
amid our weakness and our fears.
And here
amid our broken dreams and tears.
The angel blows his horn.
And sometimes
I’m not sure who they want me to be.
I’m spinning like a star
around some dark mystery.
To stand before the face of God
and clearly see
the hardest gift of all to take
is his mercy.
And here
amid our weakness and our fears.
And here
amid our broken dreams and tears.
The angel blows his horn.
And though the dreams you had
have danced away from you.
And though each day bring fears
that you must stumble through.
Though you must journey now
in a way that only you can do,
perhaps you can lean upon the love
that we all have for you.
And here
amid our weakness and our fears.
And here
amid our broken dreams and tears.
The angel blows his horn.
Background
Sometimes you write a song and you don't understand what it is about or even why you wrote it. It just sort of feels something real to you at that moment. It is only with the years that I have begun to see what I was saying. This song is like that.
I wrote the first two verses and then a friend of mine told me how much she loved it. Theresa suffered from MS and I wrote the third verse for her. She is now dancing with the angels.
Vocal, guitar, orchestral sequencing:
Vincent Lockhart
Sometimes you write a song and you don't understand what it is about or even why you wrote it. It just sort of feels something real to you at that moment. It is only with the years that I have begun to see what I was saying. This song is like that.
I wrote the first two verses and then a friend of mine told me how much she loved it. Theresa suffered from MS and I wrote the third verse for her. She is now dancing with the angels.
Vocal, guitar, orchestral sequencing:
Vincent Lockhart