Winter Storm feat. Sarah So

from by Dave Bak

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Vs. 1
I once knew of a sister
Her first name was Mellissa
She grew up in a broken home; shattered family pictures
She could never get herself to believe
That a God was with her
For where was He, when her daddy used to beat and kick her
Her mother gone, her brains blown
Been strung out for so long
What people call a rehab center, she would now call “home”
So Mellisa, barely grown
Walked on her lonely road
Always surrounded by people but always felt so alone
So she turned to the devils house, let him rip her life apart
Figured if he took her soul, she could finally find her heart
Thinking if she gave him love; that he would do the same for her
That he would call her beautiful; that he would give a name for her
That he would be there for her; promising to give himself
But all he did was use her up, poisoning what she once felt
Taking what he only wanted, leaving the rest down the drain
Covering up her nakedness with her own regrets and shame
I write this for that little girl who’s dying to cry out tonight
Who doesn’t see this as a song, but a mirror to her life
Who’s walking through her winter storm wanting to cry
“worse than death is to live life wanting do die”

Winter’s never felt so cold
Stories of a life untold
I’ve never felt more alone than this season
I’m crying out to you Lord
Tell me what this life is for
You said that I’m more loved than I know
Guide me through this storm
Through this winter storm
Through this winter storm
Through this winter storm

Vs. 2
I once knew of a brother
Too young to be a man
Too small to hold his own, way too naïve to understand
To have to give up his dreams, to have to fold his hand
To provide for a family now looking up to Him
So he made a plan and dropped right out of school
Entered the school of hard knocks and learned every rule
He graduated as an O.G. right at the top
And got his first real job out of school selling dope on the block
He hit the streets hard and got his products flipped
The streets his pharmacy and He as the pharmacist
A gun by his waist to blast life’s troubles away
Watching the streets tattoo tears down his face
Pastors trying to reach His soul
Preaching that Jesus cares
But He never came to church; He never saw Jesus there
Whole family up in prayer, words from his only son
Asking God to forgive all the sins that His father’s done
I write this for the man who’s screaming out from His lungs
Who’s searching through his present to find exactly where he came from
Who can’t escape his sins no matter how far he runs
Looking at himself in the mirror to see the monster that he’s become


from Voices, released May 8, 2012



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Dave Bak Pennsylvania

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