Bob Carty Desert Eyes


It was a table long ago.
You got up, put down your robe
A towel on your waist you tied,
a water basin at your side
You knelt to those who follow you,
Took off their dusty shoes
You touched our skin, our sin.
You washed our feet.

You clean the flesh I cannot feel.
You tend the wounds that never heal
You push my chair when legs can’t walk.
You are my voice when I can’t talk.

You carried me down flights of stairs,
when all the world was in despair
When buildings crumbled at our feet,
and dust and rubble in the street.
You washed our feet
If I have washed you, so you, the other
If I have knelt before you, so you, one another

You stand alone at the barricade,
in lingering tear gas and pepper spray
You offer roses to police.
The crowd cries war, you whisper peace
You washed our feet

You spoke the truth in Salvador.
You spoke of God to the dogs of war
You looked into their lying eyes.
You lift the host before you die
You washed our feet

Bob (lead and harmony vocals, guitar), Daniela (harmonies), Bill (piano), James (bass, viola), Rob (percussion), Jonathan Werk (oboe)


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