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2 Sacred Ground

SACRED GROUND words and music ©1988 by Bill Davie Up from The Market, a left and a right turn. The hub of the business wheel. Young radios burn and burn. I was there at the climax just before it started to die. Roll in the big trucks. Watch the citizens point and cry, "They're digging up the street where the steel drum band taught me how to love that sound. Don't they know that corner is sacred ground?" Wedge-shaped buildings. Slices of grandma's pie. Coca-cola neon backed by a visible sky. All that's changing in the flash of a hard hat grin. They're gonna rip it up and build us some tall gray walls to hold all the people in. They're digging up the street where the shoe shine man taught us all how to look down. While we were checking our shoes we were walking on sacred ground. Second floor cafe. Plate glass balcony. Fish bowl business ladies walking away from me. Transient blankets stagger the same crooked line. Adrenaline surging through me time after time after time. They're digging up the street where the Mohawks meet, looking like the lost and found. Grinding their butts in the gutters of sacred ground. Sterile invaders swallow another block. Sleepless survivors forced to absorb the shock. Official position? It'll put more time in your day. But they dig up the soul and the spirit load it up and cart it away. They're digging up the street where the steel drum band taught me how to love that sound. Don't they know that corner is sacred ground? Sacred ground. Sacred. Sacred. Full Concert video is here:    • Bill Davie: Raise Your Heart--Full Concert...