Stricken Flags

I. Wave the white flags Hold on! Wave them not until we strike the tents of the arch opponent Bent crooked like hell to cave in the rights of pent up souls, rent Who can fix them but one heaven sent? Blessed and crucified, dead and resurrected And all to fulfill the will of the father of light; That all men should repent II. Sleeping temples dreaming of oblivion You're never too tender to pull down altars Never too dead to be raised Shut the mouth of hell at night and keep the devils abased Hold them off until dawn, When it's Michael wrestling with Persian princes drawn By stricken flags, they'll lie in wait and hope in deception They'll dance in vain as long as your prayers go on III. Let us brave the rush hours In stout frames Climb through to the mountain tops where love's stricken flags still tower Let us project Christ, the prince of peace Onto crushed hopes and prisoners of chaotic desires All bane and sired by evil, destined for wild fire Let us spread out in our numbers and walk by faith We'll never get burned so long as we remain one with the spirit IV. Watered through a month of Sundays I cannot help but bless he that brought me the glaze Even for eternity, I'd pray for him to stay Salvage the moments when I watch the lavenders in freshness And receive what the Word says in graced tunes While the canary melodies rhyme with her flutters of colored jewels Each flapping note softening tones until she sleeps well I'll mine eternal treasures to be stored up in Zion Sell the chords fashioned by your hearts behind flags All stricken by the hands of bond men with no tags