Del Mar

A Kid's Prayer

by Dan Bern

So sad, so sad the news 
Come our way this morning 
Like a bad bad dream 
A dream that you’d never even talk about 
In a school, a school 
A place where we send our precious children 
The only place of innocence the world might ever let them know 

And barely aware of the odds against existence in the first place 
Of love and fertility and risk of a baby being born 
And of clothes and food and fear and maybe relocation 
Of sickness, recovery, of music lessons, painting the bedroom 

And lingering over eggs and thoughts and sleepy conversations 
And plans for the weekend 
One last pause to say goodbye 
And a glance at the clock 
And the grabbing of the sandwich and the notebook 
Confident of nothing but the unbroken days that they've been granted 

But comes a child 
A child so full of anger and hatred 
Barely aware of the genesis coursing through his veins 
With a gun, a gun 
Deaf and blind deliverer of madness 
Skilled beyond his own unformulated brain 

And with his hand in a fist 
And his soul in a knot 
And his heart racing 
And his mind sick with images 
His slim shoulders finally feeling tall 

And his fellow creatures 
Students and their crushes and their daydreams 
Struggling to unwrap the ancient secrets of geometry 
He pulls from his coat the instrument to shatter all forevers 
In a random blaze of insides and blood and endless now 

And noise and flash and more and not even when it's over 
Can any so much as summon up the sanity to scream 
Then on the floor his classmates blown down and choking 
As he lays his weapon on his desk, hardly sure he isn't dreaming 

And all the world descends and offers up their condolence 
And offers up their theories what went wrong 
And who and why and when and how 

It's all the killing day and night on television 
It's all the movies where violence is as natural as breathing 
It's guns and bullets as easily obtainable as candy 
It's video games where you kill and begin to think it's real 
It's people not having God in their lives anymore 
Or it's all of it, or none of it, or some of it, or various combinations 

And all those theories sound pretty reasonable, I guess 
Though I ain't no scientist 
I ain't no figurer of statistics 
I ain't no theologist 
Or psychologist or biologist 
All I can do is offer up a prayer of my own 

Talk to your kids 
Play with your kids 
Tell them your dreams 
And your disappointments 
Listen with your kids 
Listen to your kids 
Watch your kids 
Let your kids watch you 
Tell your kids the truth 
Best as you can tell it 
No use telling lies 
Your kids can always smell it 
Cook for your kids 
Let your kids cook for you 
Sing with your kids 
Teach your kids the blues 
Learn their games 
Teach them yours 
Touch your kids 
Find out what they know 
Be sad with your kids 
Be stupid with your kids 
Learn with your kids 
Cry with you kids 
Be yourself with your kids 
Be real with your kids 
Embarrass your kids 
Let them embarrass you 
Be strong with your kids 
Be tough with your kids 
Be firm with your kids 
Say "No" to your kids 
Say "Yes" to your kids 
Take it easy on your kids 
You were a kid 
Not so long ago 
There are things you know 
Your kids will never know 
There’s places they live 
Where you will never go 
So dance with your kids 
Paint with your kids 
Walk with your kids 
Tell stories to your kids 
Watch movies with your kids
Eat popcorn with your kids
Tell secrets to your kids
Stop for rainbows with your kids
One day your kids
Won't be kids
And maybe they'll have kids of their own
Let’s hope they talk to their kids
Play with their kids
Tell them their dreams
And their disappointments

Shy Ronnie

Use your outside voice.

Happy Little Clouds

I also believe!

Garden of Your Mind

This song makes me feel so happy!