| [00:27.13] |
Hope grows between |
| [00:28.94] |
the cracks in the asphalt |
| [00:31.05] |
in the down downtown |
| [00:32.40] |
ghetto streets that contour the government |
| [00:36.35] |
housing intentions of my heart |
| [00:42.70] |
And no one notices |
| [00:44.88] |
the daisies don't care |
| [00:46.89] |
about gang related violence |
| [00:49.12] |
as long as they get enough air and water and sun |
| [00:53.89] |
they're all just fine |
| [02:07.26][00:59.07] |
Who would have thought it but life is finding a way |
| [01:03.79] |
through this wasteland of cynics, concrete, and pain |
| [02:18.87][01:10.75] |
There's a man down here somewhere between |
| [02:22.71][01:14.76] |
those Saturday cartoons and the dirty magazines |
| [01:18.83] |
He's raising the dead in graveyards |
| [02:30.91][01:22.44] |
where we've laid down our dreams |
| [02:33.75][01:25.85] |
and His name is hope |
| [01:35.10] |
Hope stands high |
| [01:36.78] |
on the fifteenth floor |
| [01:38.76] |
of a Christmas tree perched |
| [01:40.93] |
about the ledge |
| [01:42.12] |
of a fortress of steel |
| [01:43.81] |
that's trying too hard |
| [01:45.83] |
to be somebody's home |
| [01:50.67] |
as it seized |
| [01:51.90] |
my attention from I-85 |
| [01:54.78] |
though the throes of the day were |
| [01:57.09] |
still writhing inside |
| [01:58.68] |
I lifted my head |
| [02:00.78] |
as I drove home that night |
| [02:02.88] |
and knew that everything was gonna be fine. |
| [02:11.92] |
through this wasteland of cynics, concrete, and pain. |
| [02:26.94] |
He's raising the dead in graveyards |
| [03:45.98][03:38.18][03:29.79][03:21.81][03:14.25][03:05.84] |
His name is hope |
| [03:53.44][03:41.23][03:33.18][03:25.51][03:17.45][03:09.01] |
everybody needs a little |
| [04:30.63] |
Can hear him outside |
| [04:32.87] |
He's been singing all night |
| [04:34.76] |
He's saying, "When are you gonna |
| [04:36.30] |
come out from behind |
| [04:38.91] |
these paper thin walls of your |
| [04:41.25] |
cardboard box reality. |