Album: Valley Maker
Man of dreams,
are you as you seem?
Are you the chosen one?
The beloved son?
Binding sheaves,
you were released.
And you were lifted high
above your brother's eyes.
But oh, no, they don't want
to give you that. They know
you are of a mind
to act. The favor of old
is like a robe of gold,
and you'll learn how to lose
what you hold. Another dream:
this time you've seen
that you're the king of the sky,
the Sun and Moon know why.
Eleven stars know who they are,
but they will not comply.
With hatred in their eyes,
they'll throw you down
into a well to die. Jealous,
they were carrying their line.
Covered your robe in the blood
of a goat, and you'll learn
that you reap what you sow.
Sold as a slave,
well on your way
to the good life.
Handsome and stayed,
you caught the eye
of a good wife.
You ran away, but
you left your clothes
for a good lie.
Who are your friends,
and what are your sins,
that you should die?
Back in the hole,
you have been told
of a budding vine.
Grapes are in supply.
Another friend, the Baker,
has dreamt of cakes piled
on his head, but then the birds
flew in. In three days Pharoah
now is gonna lift you high.
But you'll hang. Birds will eat you
alive. In due time, he will need
your mind, and you'll learn
what you hold is a gift.
Out of the Nile, seven cows.
They are in their prime:
Food is in supply.
Seven again, hungry
and thin: to eat the fat alive,
to eat a troubled mind.
Pharoah now is gonna pull
you out. He hopes you
are of a magic mouth.
The story you told is worth
a ring of gold. And you know
that you are not your own.
The one who was sold
is the promise of old.
Though you have not a home,
you abide.