VII - Summer

[Verse 1] With strong hands, you reach down to the gutter Said there's a light that will shine without stutter There was no recourse for a life of remorse Till a smile made me wait for the summer [Chorus] I said the sword forged of silver will end The divine and the right never fend What use for a palace? What good is the chalice? When there's foes all around I must rend Yet no words nor debate would he state No anger, no temper, no, nothing to bate The man had me puzzled, my worst instincts muffled As he repainted my portrait too late [Verse 2] Too late, the plucked fruit never ripens, that's fate A base brute only frightens The swing of the blade is how deads get paid A grip that can't loose and must heighten But this man knew much more than what's known The spoiled fruit still has seeds yet unsown In the peace of the winter, the seeds will not wither Just believe 'til you see what they've grown For no plants but the right ones must grow Temperance brings light, though wrong comes to woe While he was forsaken, his faith was unshaken And the mighty were left to re-grow [Outro] So I'm now left with a portrait and ink I'm still late, but I'm back from the brink Resolve that was hidden, he calls now unbidden For his summer how deeply I drink