lirik lagu 137 (usa) - he spoke to me in a whisper
serpent
calls me by
the name of my past transgressions
strident
but i shan’t cry
because i am freed of those sins
if well, from which your deeds spring
is poisoned
no size bucket, will gather, clean water
i peered at contorted face of impatience
and shuddered when i saw our stark resemblance
place value in a verse’s true execution
versus mere capacity to keep it in remembrance
rather losе face and world know who i am
than to court any love through a sham or a show
what is opportunity if knock goes unanswеred
what is fertile field if you don’t till and sow
stomach still will growl if it fed on raw potential
you can starve while you are howling hungrily at full moon
i implored the spirit, “make me instrument of lord’s will”
he responded i instead should pray to play the right tune
clay bowls
who deny
existence of our potter
extol
adonai
and pray my sight won’t falter
without expertise
you will drown inside full silo
if you won’t rise from knees
you will starve beneath the trees’
fruitful branches, in the orchard
yea abundance can be torture
or it can nurture
el antagonismo de satanás
es una indicación del camino correcto
tóxico y sabroso, como el sasafrás
es nuestro pecado
espíritu conmigo, no tengo miedo de enemigos
tengo un abrigo pa’ verano y helado pa’ invierno
qué es lo que siembras en el suelo
si no vienen nubes al cielo
a, kiss solely leaves lips wet for seconds
and the warmth of an embrace dims like lightning
with thunder and celerity clarity comes as s~x ends
brightening that which can be quite frightening
when i prayed
“bless me lord and these gifts from thy bounty”
people thought the prayer’s scope was purely plate and pantry
no, i am far more blessed than you may know
we all
drive, to the same red light
some crawl, some race
keep pace and stand tall
when facing one’s call or pall
saint paul called all lawful
slave to aught, he deemed awful
spirit told me i have naught to prove
in lieu i’ve structures to improve
and mountains i’m behooved to move
spirit
i rely
to tighten my strings for the lord to strum
dark pit
i espy
lord stretch skin tight on my battle drum
restraint doesn’t paint a picture less true
of me or you
i am revealed by what i choose, not to do
and the way i react to how i win or lose
by the wars i decide, that i will not to wage
on whose side i battle if i do engage
by the horse i saddle and each turnèd page
i’m discovered in my state of exception
and, in my manner of comportment day to day
utterances, i delivered and chose
and those i didn’t say
doors left sealed and those i closed
and the ones i kept ajar
i am evinced in the cut that i tended to
and what i concealed, or left to scar
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