Biography series: Introduction
When the dust settles
by Joel Howard
Not much is visible here in the night
Wrong things look pretty, can't see the right
Storms keep us moving, hidden from sight
Can't see what's moving at the speed of light
Chances are there's more to each story, you and me
Chances are there's a lot that we don't see
One could be famous, one could be rich
One could end up abandoned, dead in a ditch
One could have made it to the top and have it all
But alone in his bedroom, he grieves and feels small
Parents, too, are often unseen fighters
Of who their children become, the unknown igniters
Music may sound and be replayed for generations
But Oh! The toil that led us to be able to play their stations
Slavery kept so many in debt
Paying for freedom some never get
Our mothers and fathers, again, play a part
That's often unseen, that's the hidden part
Another thing is how once a man is dead
We often forget what all went through his head
What he or she lived, experienced and did
To get to the place where we admire them again
Books play a role integral for so many
The promise, the hope of a land full of plenty
They tell age-old stories; hidden, refined gold
They prompt us to carry our God-given role
Most of all God's word helps us to see
But also the lives of saints and sinners indeed
We see how they rose, how they fell, how they lived
We can do what they'd do if they did it again
Yes, we learn from mistakes and the wisdom of others
We can call ancient ones our sisters and brothers
Sit, child, and learn from the wisdom of friends
We can do what they'd do if they did it again
We can do what we'd do if we did it again
by Joel Howard
Not much is visible here in the night
Wrong things look pretty, can't see the right
Storms keep us moving, hidden from sight
Can't see what's moving at the speed of light
Chances are there's more to each story, you and me
Chances are there's a lot that we don't see
One could be famous, one could be rich
One could end up abandoned, dead in a ditch
One could have made it to the top and have it all
But alone in his bedroom, he grieves and feels small
Parents, too, are often unseen fighters
Of who their children become, the unknown igniters
Music may sound and be replayed for generations
But Oh! The toil that led us to be able to play their stations
Slavery kept so many in debt
Paying for freedom some never get
Our mothers and fathers, again, play a part
That's often unseen, that's the hidden part
Another thing is how once a man is dead
We often forget what all went through his head
What he or she lived, experienced and did
To get to the place where we admire them again
Books play a role integral for so many
The promise, the hope of a land full of plenty
They tell age-old stories; hidden, refined gold
They prompt us to carry our God-given role
Most of all God's word helps us to see
But also the lives of saints and sinners indeed
We see how they rose, how they fell, how they lived
We can do what they'd do if they did it again
Yes, we learn from mistakes and the wisdom of others
We can call ancient ones our sisters and brothers
Sit, child, and learn from the wisdom of friends
We can do what they'd do if they did it again
We can do what we'd do if we did it again
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