10 A little sleep, a little slumber, A little folding of the hands to sleep—
11 So shall your poverty come on you like a prowler, And your need like an armed man.
Here I am, a little man ... weight one eighty one plus or so
Little-ness is in mind and heart ... and that I really know
If all I’ll be just a tiny flea ... a parasite of sorts
You then call me just a little pig ... who grunts and snorts
Opinions of others really count ... when your name is at stake
For to preserve a good reputation ... is good for Heaven’s sake
It is not age that makes us see ... for sight seems to become dimmer
What is it than that makes us tick ... as darkness seems much grimmer?
Retire, retire the battle cry ... it is time now to do nothing
But most do little when still young ... and try to call it something
Talk is cheap that is a lie ... for the much waste it makes
Smells up high to Heaven ... where Truth in Life partakes
Every word that is ever said ... is analyzed and sifted
as the waste lights up the fire of hell ... and the good lights up the Gifted
It seems envy, greed and hate ... are an “everlasting” supply
That keeps the fire burning ... in the lake removed from life
How much of my iniquity ... keeps that fire going?
How many did I pass in life ... not caring about their knowing?
Reminds me of a German town ... where ashes were always blowing
On the streets of daily life ... pretending they were unknowing.
Look at the ashes in my streets ... and in “my” church as called
This temple where the Spirit dwells ... resurrected from the Fall
How many do I send to camps ... where fire burns day and night?
Under the banner: “I did not know” ... is that why death seems right?
“Cry not for me” Jesus said ... “Cry for yourself” you guys
For at the end of your days ... you may be in for a surprise.