Last week in church I heard a great tune by a brilliant (in an understated way) musician. (I know, those three things, “church,” “great tune,” and “brilliant musician” don’t always go together- especially if the music is “contemporary Christian.”) This song was written, composed and sung by Mondo Davis, who I’m guessing would eschew the label of “contemporary Christian” next to his music, even though his sounds and lyrics exude a kind of raw, gritty honesty about both the elusiveness and necessity of a soul’s healing and redemption through Jesus Christ.

If you’ve ever wandered far from home, and tried to get back only to keep hitting “red lights”…or, if you’ve ever wondered whether your soul will ever find peace…or, if you’ve ever found healing only to discover you need to ask for it over and over again, then I suppose this song is for you, just as it is for me.

I asked Mondo for a short bio, and here is what he came up with: “Somewhere between the emotional earth tones of Bob Dylan and the lyrical storytelling of Jackson Browne rests Mondo Davis. A displaced Missouri boy making music from the Paris of the South, Mondo has been writing songs since he was old enough to write. With an emotion-driven approach and a pension for redemption in his lyrics, Mondo can be caught playing around various venues in the greater Atlanta area.”

You can check out Mondo’s 2012’s digital album, Dust Bowl Refugee, available at http://mondodavis.bandcamp.com. I, for one, will be buying it.

Here is “Rambling,” with lyrics below:

 

Rambling

There is some eternal ghost inside my whispers,

There is someone calling out from blackened depths,

with each penny that I wish, there’s something that I miss,

and the lady of the lake blesses the rest,

we all hope to find the gold beyond the rainbow,

we believe that there is truth in all the lies,

with each office that we reach, they are calling for a speech,

and we’re worshiping those things they advertise,

 

There is something to be said

for the way you hang your head

when we’re asked if there are questions we would pose

’cause there are secrets no one knows

but that’s just how it goes

 

I could heal if I had some penicillin,

I could walk if Jesus Christ would touch my head,

but the water ripples quick, and healing never sticks,

so, I’ll sit here on this mat until I’m dead.

  

I have journeyed now for years to find this moment,

I have walked a thousand miles in my own shoes,

if my ramblin’s at an end, then I’m back where I begin,

and I’ll write to tell my mother of the news.

  

There is something to be said

for why stoplights all turn red

when we’re trying like a madman to get home

as the truth’s soaking into my clothes

but that’s just how it goes

 

There is God in Woodruff park, amidst the buildings,

and he smiles as I sit down atop the grass,

with his whisper, he explains, all the details of my name,

and I know that I am living now, at last.

 

don’t expect that I am lost inside my longing,

don’t assume that I am dead inside my sin,

through the melancholy days, I begin to see a way,

to be free from all the confines of my skin.

 

there is something to believe

from those articles we read

maybe God is more than poetry and prose

as my black heart is exposed

but that’s just the way it goes.

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