No One Can Hold Me

What will I tell the man in black

When he comes to take my soul.

He will not believe me,

when I say my soul already belongs

to someone else.

He will want a fight,

for my life...

But no matter when he comes,

either on my graffitied skateboard

in the shallow slums of New York,

or on the summit of Mount Everest

in the summer time,

or on the winter equinox 

when Night and Day kiss,

or in my bed 

when I am old and grey...


I will be ready.

No one can hold a Child of God.

Not even Death.