When I get up, she swears that she don’t hear it<\/p>\n
Says that I’m as quiet as a mouse<\/p>\n
I comb my hair and throw some water on my face<\/p>\n
And back out of the stillness of our house<\/p>\n
Lately, my patience is in short supply<\/p>\n
Nothing good seems to ever come from all this work, no matter how hard I try<\/p>\n
You know I believe in the Son, I ain’t no backslider, but my people were told they’d prosper in this land<\/p>\n
Still, I know some who’ve never seen the ocean or set one foot on a velvet bed of sand<\/p>\n
But they’ve got their treasure laying way up high, where there might be many mansions<\/p>\n
but when I look up, all I see is sky<\/p>\n
Maybe it’s the getting by that gets right underneath you<\/p>\n
It’d swallow up your every step, boy, if it could<\/p>\n
But maybe it’s the stuff it takes to get up in the morning and put another day in, son<\/p>\n
That holds you till the getting’s good<\/p>\n
Green ribbon front doors, dishwater days, this whole town is tied to the torso of God’s mysterious ways<\/p>\n
Maybe it’s the getting by that gets right underneath you<\/p>\n
It’d swallow up your every step, boy, if it could<\/p>\n
But maybe it’s the stuff it takes to get up in the morning and put another day in, son<\/p>\n
that keeps you standing where you should<\/p>\n
So put another day in, son, and hold on till the getting’s good<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
When I get up, she swears that she don’t hear it Says that I’m as quiet as a mouse I comb my hair and throw some water on my face And back out of the stillness of our house Lately, my patience is in short supply Nothing good seems to ever come from all this … <\/p>\n