Vacant Days

Let the air come fill your lungs

Words once scrawled, now be sung.

There can be no better way

To try and fill these vacant days

Precious metal, yet be wrought

With gleaming gems, light we've caught

Let whatever be displayed;

They cannot fill your vacant days.

Farmers call or curse the sun

Whether storm, or loaded gun

What'er your trouble, be not dismayed

It cannot fill these vacant days.

Time shall flow; words shall pass.

Kiss of death like broken glass.

When the Lord comes and stays

I know he'll fill these vacant days.