The Progressive at Home

Three Neighborhood Children (c) 2008, Durkin Family: Do not reproduce w/o permission

The Progressive at Home
(c) 2008, Jon Trott

The butterflies come at the mention of the poor
Makes you feel good to be so caring for
There’s nothing wrong with sending the cash
Man of big conscience see that gold heart flash!
So you aint’ no card member of the bigoted Right
That’s good but not enough to provide real light
Feels to me like its slippery… hypocrisy
Feels to me likes it slippery… hypocrisy

Your ideas of us come from the bottom of the deck
Your dreams of having sex with one of us – check.
Your ideas are still about a world that’s good
That’s why you try to clean us out of your neighborhood
Where poverty is, your sins are seen in the enemy
The stinking homeless, the ugly in humanity
(none are so blind as those who will not see)
Feels to me like its slippery… hypocrisy
Feels to me likes it slippery… hypocrisy

That’s my baby with her newborn that you mock
That’s my daughter that you slaughter with your blog talk
My wife is crying my anger is lying trying to say
That you’re less than human – but then I’d be you this day
You hate so well but what’s the wound inside?
You must have a million tears for that hate to hide

And I want to take the murderer in my own arms
And hold him tight ‘til he finally sees the ones he harms
And whisper the truth to him about him, about me
We’re all lost in our ego but saved in humility

On a cold winter night an old woman that I knew
That I’d helped along in ignorance of what she could do
I mourned the end of my marriage, she saw my pain
Shared her suffering with me and made me whole again
The November wind blew against her holy face
Through her tears for me I clearly saw Eternal Grace

Feels to me like words are cheap… but suffering…
Feels to me like words are cheap… but forgiveness
Is what will set us free.

I’m just a child, forgive me. Jesus forgive me.