Tightrope Father

When the man up on the tightrope
peers down from his dizzy height
when the ninety mile stuntman
feels the edges of his plight

there's always something stronger
to hold your fate from fall
something solid, calm, and strong
that answer's your desperate call

when atlas feels his shoulder give
and the world tips this way and that
the floor gives way to unstable ground
and your not sure where your at

when slippery fingers begin to fail
and grasps begin to slip
panic begins to take its grip
and alarms begin to wail

you reach in the dark for one last chance
to reclaim your broken hold
and fingers close around solidity
around something clean and whole

every now and then i fall
and fear grips my soul
I'm warmed because I know everytime
you'll pull me out of the cold