Of thee I sing, O, sweet liberty
Whose scars and stripes forever set me free
And I concede that I am nothing
I'm a stranger here with no country of my own
So I'll turn this heart to you, O Christ, my home . . .

—from SCARS AND STRIPES FOREVER

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For there is a craving that will not go unsatisfied, a yearning that cannot long remain silent, an anthem rising sweet and majestic in the midst of us that will not go unfelt and unsung. It is a country we seek, a people and kinsmen of our own, a home more kind and more lasting than the earth itself. SCARS AND STRIPES. For these uncertain times. (Recorded in 1997)


©2011 David Teems. All rights reserved.