Hymn For The Unsung

Hymns from the loudest voice, 'till the quiet ones rejoice
 Your bitter silence tasted
 And to all the beaten down in those forgotten towns
 Let no more time be wasted
 There are no words to sing this little song I bring
 I come here empty-handed
 There is no day too bright, no darkened night
 There are no wishes granted
 You can't take this music from me, music from me
 Can't take it from me
 Though pockets lose thier wealth and dust climbs upon the shelf
 This beauty will not wither
 So with hungry baby face or hands all leather-traced
 Come to the bounty hither
 Don't take this music from me, music from me
 Don't take it from me
 So go on and ring those bells, lay on your cockle shells
 There is no sound displeasing
 Run get your pots and pans, tame wood and steel for hands
 Hold up to all your mysteries
 Don't take your music from me, music from me
 Don't take it from me
 Don't take this music from me, music from me
 You won't take it from me
 All sounds from mother (???), this wild mountain steep
 We see our days before us
 So to each make her own noise, each rhymes with simple voice
 And join an ancient Don't take this music from me, music from me
 You won't take it from me
 Oh, please don't take this music from me, music from me
 You can't take it from me