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Song for Psalm
113
I have much to thank you for:
For the
beauty of the earth;
For the loveliness of living
And the mystery of
birth.
But today I sing of one great gift
That you have given
more,
A gift I know that long ago
I should have thanked you
for:
Thank you for America,
For the gift of
being free;
For being born a child
Of this land of liberty;
For
the privilege of power,
And the joy of dignity,
And the pleasure of
abundance,
And the dream of what might be.
I have much to thank you for:
For the gift
of loving you;
For my faith and your commandments,
That guide all
that I do.
But today I sing of one great gift
That you have given
more,
A gift I know that long ago
I should have thanked you
for:
Thank you for America . . .
etc.
I have much to thank you for:
For my
children and my wife;
For those I love, and those who love
me
Through this fleeting life.
But today I sing of one great
gift
That you have given more,
A gift I know that long ago
I
should have thanked you for:
Thank you for America . . .
etc.
(repeat)
Song for Psalm 114
Lord, give me a child,
An American
child,
Born in the land of the free!
Whose life will be long,
And
whose spirit is strong,
Full of power and dignity!
Lord, give me a child,
An American
child,
Who'll always have plenty to eat.
Whose only concern
Will
be how much to learn,
And who'll have all the world at his
feet.
For the heart is aflutter
At meat, eggs,
and butter,
And a table that groans with delight.
And the heart is
amazed
At a mind that's unfazed,
That is free to choose what it thinks right.
Lord, give me a child,
An American
child,
Whose reality will be my dream.
Of the unsculpted dust
Of
my love and my lust,
Make a life that my life will
redeem.
For the world knows the way
To a much
brighter day,
But it isn't that easy to make it.
If not granted by
birth,
From the ends of the earth
We will crawl on our bellies to
take it!
Lord, give me a child,
An American
child,
Safe behind mountains of laws.
In the fullness of
time
This joy will be mine,
And the glory, the glory all
yours!
Song for Psalm 115
I bless the Lord on going out,
Again on
coming in;
Before I wash my hands,
And before I break my
bread;
After waking up
And before I go to sleep:
All these times
I bless the Lord.
I bless my children Friday nights,
My
hands upon their heads;
I go to shul and bless the Lord
Time and
time again;
The Sabbath done, we all join hands
And bless the sacred
day:
All these times I bless the Lord.
Why do I, a modern American,
Do these
ancient things?
The same words at the same times
Till time itself
shall end?
For I am blessed at every moment
Of this gift of
life.
And so I bless the Lord.
I bless the Lord for bread and wine;
I
bless the holy days;
I bless the meat that had been blessed
Before
the blood was drawn;
I bless the Lord for commanding me
To utter all
these blessings:
All these times I bless the Lord.
I bless the Lord each time the
Torah
Scrolls are taken out,
And then again each time the
scrolls
Are wrapped and placed within;
I bless the Lord for giving
me
The Law by which I live:
All these times I bless the
Lord.
Why do I, a modern American,
Do these
ancient things?
The same words at the same times
Till time itself
shall end?
For I am blessed at every moment
Of this gift of
life.
And so I bless the Lord,
And so I bless the
Lord.
Song for Psalm 116
I look into your face and see
My face, my
eyes, my heart.
Are you my mirror? Or am I yours?
Or is this just
America?
I pray to you as of old,
With all my soul
and might.
You lift me up to wealth and power.
Or is this just
America?
You are my father, friend, and guide,
To
whom I speak each day.
You are the helpmeet by my side,
My wind, my
will, my way.
And yet . . . and yet . . . there is a
rush
Of things that like a veil
Hides me even from myself.
Or is
this just America?
Time takes me timeless downstream, as
I
Watch you watching me
Motionless upon the shore.
Or is this
just America?
I try to do what you would do
Were you
being me,
But no one I know acts that way.
Or is this just
America?
You are my father, friend, and guide . . .
etc.
And yet . . . and yet . . . you are a
void,
A name without a name.
I praise you through a pane of
glass.
Or is this just America?
And yet . . . and yet . . . you seem
detached,
Or is it I from you?
Or are you living in my heart?
Or
is this just America?
Song for Psalm 117
A multitude of gods
For a multitude of
peoples;
A multitude of faiths
For a multitude of faces.
And yet
I wander through this vast
Bizarre bazaar of truth
In love with
you,
With only you,
The Lord of all that is.
A multitude of meanings
For a multitude of
phrases;
A multitude of rituals
That bind one fast to life.
And
yet I wander through this vast
Bizarre bazaar of truth
In love with
you,
With only you,
The Lord of all that is.
How can I believe in you
When you are one
of many,
And pass that faith on to my children's
Children
undisturbed?
How can love for you remain
The passion of their
being,
When passion is a marketplace
Where people try on
words?
A multitude of ways
To a multitude of
endings;
A multitude of rights against
A multitude of wrongs.
And
yet I wander through this vast
Bizarre bazaar of truth
In love with
you,
With only you,
The Lord of all that is.
How can there be beauty in
This thing we
call America,
Where contradictions cradle in
Familial
embrace?
How can love admit that there
Are lovers just as
lovely,
When in the teeth of death
We have worshipped only
you?
A multitude of friends,
Lovers, husbands,
wives, and children;
A multitude of powers to which
Multitudes might
pray.
And yet I wander through this vast
Bizarre bazaar of
truth
In love with you,
With only you,
The Lord of all that
is.
Song for Psalm 118
We live in a land of plenty,
Practitioners
of pleasure,
Blessed to be where we are,
Blessed to be in
America!
Lord, fill us with laughter,
Fill us with
laughter and longing!
Of all with which we are blessed,
You are our
greatest blessing!
We live in a land of profusion,
Denizens
of desire,
Blessed to be where we are,
Blessed to be in
America!
Lord, fill us with glory,
Fill us with
glory and love!
Of all with which we are blessed,
You are our
greatest blessing!
For we have been chosen for freedom,
A
light unto the world,
A shining light to all peoples!
And we have
been given great wealth,
The bank and the engine of progress,
To
lift up the lives of all peoples!
We live in a land of change,
Guardians of
the future,
Blessed to be where we are,
Blessed to be in
America!
Lord, fill us with wisdom,
Fill us with
wisdom and passion!
Of all with which we are blessed,
You are our
greatest blessing!
Lift us up, O Lord,
That freedom might
spread and prosper.
Lift us up, O Lord,
That we might be a
beacon,
A bright and shining beacon
By which all the world might
find peace. |