Blood on the Paper

It’s the living water that flows through us all

It can rise like a fever, drive you up a wall

My granddaddy shed it to keep us free

But it never meant a damn to me

Til I read it one day and it came together

In a stack of paper bound in leather

I didn’t know that I was dead

Till I saw that paper stained in red

It’s not the ink in a printer that makes it red

It’s the blood he sweat when he wept for me

It’s the blood that came from a rugged tree

When they tore him up and pushed him around, dragging his body on the broken ground that soaked up what would become the words I read

It the life he gave to make me greater

It’s His blood on paper

It’s not what I lost but what I found

That came turned me upside down

It’s not the things I did that He loved

But that He knew that i would trust His blood

The blood that he shed that set me free

It’s the blood he sweat when he wept for me

It’s the blood that came from a rugged tree

When they tore him up and pushed him around, dragging his body on the broken ground that soaked up what would become the words I read

It the life he gave to make me greater

It’s His blood on paper

I never knew what it was, but at least I knew sooner than later

That it’s His blood that makes the red on the paper