On the evening train
The conductors voice is love
When He called my name
From the platform to stand up
I was covered over secrets deep
And saddled with my shame
And with a Word
The rolling Hand
Revealing every low disguise
’Til I am known
And living in the knowledge
of a man alive
The old familiar fear
My long companion through the Fall
Winter’s end is here
And I’ve been remembered after all
For every broken thing inside me
Beauty makes the trade
Oh nothing’s wasted
Arriving right on time
No nothing’s wasted
Arriving right on time
I’ve been up all night
Trying to get myself some sleep
In a house on fire
Yahweh running after me
Nothing is wasted,
Arriving right on time
Time, time, time…
Arrival, your heart’s not wasted time…
