Sad Song Lyrics
Words and music by Shaun Groves
There's always music in my mind
Orchestrations for my life
Oh this symphony sometimes
Plays like a sad song, sad song
September morning on my couch
Trembling hand across my mouth
Watching life go down in flames
I sang a sad song, sad song
Can you hear the old broken melody
Blowing through the trees of Eden
Out across the heart of all humanity
Such a sad song, sad song
Now the sun sets on the sands
Bombs like rain spill over man
While orphans made of flags and steel
Cry out a sad song, sad song
I can see the Man of Sorrows through this pain
Broken body, bloodied face
He's crying out and making way
To end our sad song, sad song
Story Behind The Song:
MATTHEW 5:4 "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted."
And the warm fuzzies kept flowing from Jesus as He continued to charm the crowd. He "encourages" them with, "Blessed are those who mourn." This is not a shed tear over the loss of a loved one or a job. It is the deep soul-shattering lament over the loss of righteousness, the death of our innocence.
When I was 6, an East Texas pastor screamed at me from his pulpit, "When you leave this church and head to your car you could die! You could step out in front of a truck and meet Jesus today! And if you're not a Christian, you'll go to hell!!" I had no idea the church parking lot could be so dangerous, but I wasn't taking my chances. I didn't want some truck sending me to hell. So I walked down the aisle, filled out a 3x5 card saying I wanted to be a Christian and felt safer in a world with trucks. Someone gave me a Bible and a lot of old ladies came by afterwards to hug and kiss me, which was a little strange. And then my family took me to Luby's to have a steak. I got saved, American style.
I put salvation, my life vest, in the closet in case I ever needed it. But when I was 12, it looked like my parents might divorce, I had few friends, I was constantly bullied and perpetually lying to win approval and appear more important or smart than I was. I was looking at pornography with my friends and stealing anything I could sell for money. I was feeling guilty, depressed, thinking about suicide often and getting worse. I felt the water rushing in around my ankles. I struggled against sin's tide in me. I cried out with Paul, " What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?"(Romans 7:24) And I clung, for the first time, to the cross like it was more than a symbol or a story. I held on like it was air for my suffocating soul, my only hope of staying afloat, of living, because it was. I knew then what I was being saved from: me. Jesus is more than the promise of Heaven in a world of trucks.
©2005 New Spring Publishing, Inc./ASCAP (all rights administered by Brentwood-Benson Music Publishing, Inc.)