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Cry, Wolf

from Wrestling by Warbler

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about

On abusers who cry victimhood, and the self-righteously destructive

lyrics

I’m not sure how we got here—
this temple’s filled with lies,
with wolves in shepherd’s clothing,
with sheep with wolves inside.

Now they are so damned, hungry—
they eat their young as bread;
they break our bones and grill us
when we do as they’ve said.

They cry against His Spirit;
they play like God is dead.

I must’ve been heard when I cried out.
The more I understand,
the smaller I become.

Now that I can see, I see I know nothing.
The misery of man,
I leave it in Your hands.

Don’t let me be sorry
for trusting Your story; I’m constantly
holding my breath. O, my God.

I’ll wait for the sky to split open;
my hope is I won’t fall asleep
in the way. O, my God.

I know what You did though
to poor Jeremiah; I fear You’ll be doing
the same with me. O, my God.

But I’m done trying for the city
to lift me up to jump
from a high rise. O, my God.

The wisdom of this world is folly.
I’m gonna be recognized as crazy—
a crazy fool.

I must’ve been heard when I cried out.
You opened up the sky;
scales fell from my eyes.

Now that I can see, I see I know nothing.
Let Your Kingdom come.
Let Your will be done.

I don’t care what they tell you:
They trust a clever lie.
They think they will not answer
for ripping up His bride.

Again, they crucify Him.
He turns it on its head.
He makes His murderers holy.
He overcame the dead.

And though you don’t deserve this—
angry and feeling judged—

He offers freely life now…

credits

from Wrestling, released September 22, 2022

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Warbler Oakland, California

When you hear the name Warbler, think of a folk-programmed bionic song-bird perched with joyful simplicity on the fresh rubble of a musical Apocalypse. Warbler’s self-titled album, the second effort of singer/songwriter Sean Sullivan, is an enjoyably off-putting cocktail of pure organic spirit set on electric fire. ... more

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