She Sings In Riddles
Mac Powell / Third Day
The voice of an angel, I cannot tell.
Light or darkness, heaven or hell.
The smile of a believer, wedged and bound.
Friend or deceiver, the truth or a lie.
She sings in riddles, she sings in rhymes.
Saying everything and nothing at the same time.
Still there's something that blows my mind.
She sings in riddles, she sings in rhymes.
Words of a poet, in perfect time.
With questions and answers,
In every verse, every line.
But I smile and I wonder,
Is there a song?
Well I'm not ever silent.
Is it right, is it wrong?