Wake Nicodemus

Since you did, I’m right next to you.
Still I can’t believe you really wrote that song.
To be reckoned as part of the salt of the earth,
or as bought for a bag full of gold.

And ‘ye last request, as you’re laid to rest
‘neath the trunk of an old hollow tree,
will be lost in the ‘morn, at the first break of dawn,
when we hope for the great jubilee.

Nicodemus was never a sport of the lash,
though the bullwhip had ‘oft crossed his path.
But there were none of his masters so bold or so rash
for to face such a man in his wrath.

While your free heart of kindness fills till the rim,
Just occasionally chained to command.
And while you long for the morning, the sunset grows dim.
It’s the morning, that now, is at hand.

I will ‘no part of being left behind,
then long, long, long on the way.
Go and tell Elijah, better hurry up home
for to wake Nicodemus today.

Nicodemus the slave was of African birth,
and he died long ago, very old.
To be reckoned as part of the salt of the earth,
or as bought for a bag full of gold.

And ‘ye last request, as you’re laid to rest
‘neath the trunk of an old hollow tree.
Will be lost in the ‘morn, at the first break of dawn
when we hope for the great jubilee.