Isaiah sings the Wild Grape Blues

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Let me now sing of my friend,
my friend's song concerning his vineyard.

I cleared myself a vineyard, on a fertile slope o' ground;
Built a wine-press and a tower, and the choicest vines I put down;
But I went to look at harvest-time, (don't cha know) only wild grapes I found.

So neighbors, judge between me and this vineyard of mine:
Could I have worked it any better? Why don't it give me good wine?
I went to look for sweet grapes, but only wild grapes on the vine.

I'm gonna tear down all the fences, let the cattle trample through;
Let the sheep and goats graze on it: yes, that's what I'm gonna do;
Tell the clouds to hold the rain back, not a single drop of dew.

So hear: the house of Is-rael is the vineyard of the Lord;
and he gave the vine of Judah all the care He could afford (which is everything, don't cha know)
But the bloodshed and injustice means His word has been ignored.

(Oh, yeah.)

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Daughter Zion said she loved me, then she cheated on me bad;
Aggravatinest woman that a Godhead ever had.
I done told her off this mornin' but I bless her every night;
A day will come--- she'll turn around --- ever-thang gonna be all-right!

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On life and living in communion with the Catholic Church.

Richard Chonak

John Schultz

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This page contains a single entry by Richard Chonak published on October 2, 2005 12:17 PM.

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