Passing Through

Good morning life, you are so glorious.
And I wait for each new day:
Something beautiful will happen
Before the close of day
Your life will fill with sunshine
Your happy heart will sing
When you kneel down to pray
You kneel before the king
I want to try to hold to life
But I know this thing is true
Life is a fleeting thing
I am passing through

Good morning grave, where is your victory?
And death, where is your sting?
I'm happy for I'm on my way
To meet my blessed king.
I can hear him softly calling me.
And it's such a glorious sound.
There's no way that death or satan's power
Can hold me in the ground.
I can see my savior coming
And at least I know it's true
There's no way death can hold me down
I'm only passing through

I'm passing through to be with Jesus
In a mansion made for me
I can see him swiftly coming
Across the crystal sea
All the cares of Earth are fading
I can see the victory
With his arms outstretched in welcome
Jesus now is calling me.

I can hear the sound of angel wings
I can hear them in the air
He is sending out the message
I am truly welcome there
I shall sing the songs the angels sing
And walk the streets of gold
In that bright and shining city
Where no one will ever grow old
There will be no pain or sorrow
And I never more will roam
And no more will I be passing through
For there, at last, I am home.

Walking Down Broadway

Walking down Broadway,
A street filled with strife.
Kicking at pieces
of someone's broken life.
For there lies the bottle,
Kicked off to the side.
Last night he held it
Like it was his bride,
As long as he kept it
He'd never be small.
Through the rim of a bottle
He stood seven feet tall.
But daylight comes swiftly
And before his eyes
It seems he had shrunk
To infinitesimal size.
He had to find comfort,
He had to find a way to get
a jug of cheap wine,
For tonight, he would hold it
Like it was his bride
And dream of the time
When She lay by his side.
When he could move mountains,
For she was his wife.
But,when she left
She took all his reason for life.
But, tonight in his dreams,
He'll remember it all
And through the rim of a bottle,
He'll stand seven feet tall.

Broadway in this poem isn't in New York. It is connected to Downtown Cleveland, Ohio.