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God bless the grass that grows through the crack. |
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They roll the concrete over it to try and keep it back. |
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The concrete gets tired of what it has to do, |
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It breaks and it buckles and the grass grows thru, |
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And God bless the grass. |
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God bless the truth that fights toward the sun, |
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They roll the lies over it and think that it is done |
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It moves through the ground and reaches for the air, |
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And after a while it is growing everywhere, |
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And God bless the grass. |
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God bless the grass that breaks through cement, |
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It's green and its tender and it's easily bent, |
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But after a while it lifts up its head, |
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For the grass is living and the stone is dead. |
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And God bless the grass. |
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God bless the grass that's gentle and low |
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Its roots they are deep and its will is to grow. |
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And God bless the truth, the friend of the poor, |
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And the wild grass growing at the poor man's door, |
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And God bless the grass |
