Golden Cattle

As the blind walk the blind through the blackness of freedom

Who writes the songs that we all will be singing

Who writes the books where I lay my hand out open

So to swear myself into your grace

As the blind walk the blind down the borderless highway

Who holds the chain, who bears the load

Don't you be fooled if my spirits are unbroken

I'm told in the next life my fortune is owed

I'm warned not to preach if the serman I have written

Or stand on some soapbox I've built with my hands

For those who preach well will be bought out by some industry

That herds the golden cattle before insecure eyes