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jealous of dreams,
jealous of dreams,
jealous of dreams.

jealous of your legs,
jealous of your legs,
jealous of your legs.

***** for your love,
***** for your love,
***** for your love.



jealous of my love

jealous of my love,
jealous of my love,
jealous of my love.

jealous of my legs,
jealous of my legs,
jealous of my legs.

***** for my love,
***** for my love,
***** for my love.
Some people search in trash bins for cans.
They collect them to get paid.
Some people collect cans to get paid.

Some people go back to the place they like or really enjoy.
They go where they hope and dream.
Some people go back to that place where they hope and dream.
I want to be like you;
In fact, I even imagine I am you,
Except that I am unworthy of such an honor.

My imagination takes me there,
The places I read about,
To where you were:

Walking a field of grain where we pick and eat.
Fishing with those who follow you and listen.
I watch a man stretch out his hand and be cleansed.
A woman kneels to lave your feet with her tears and perfume to dry with her hair.


I imagine myself doing the things you do,
But when I come to...
I realize I do none of these things.
In fact, it seems I do nothing at all.

I want to be like you;
hear the way you do,
see the way you do,
speak like you,
and walk in your manner.

Next I will read about as you are now,
That my imagination may take me there.
I cannot be you,
But I shall be where you are!
Downtrodden and in need...never good enough...
In the ring with oneself goes;

Right palm to the forehead,
Left palm to the temple,
Forehead back and forth against the wall,
Objects thrown about,
Fist against the table,
and voice raised to the heavens in angst!


Melancholy and in need...destitute of confidence, insufficient...
The fight must go forth, distinct from before as so;

*Knees on the ground,
Sight set on the heavenly,
and voice raised in despair!
i shan't worry about the morrow,
for Thou art with me.

embrace me in my sorrow,
for i find comfort in Thee.

Thy love causes me to be roused,
more so than the morning sun.

in Thy river of life may I be doused,
before this day is done and the next begun!
There was once a carpenter's son;
he died by his stepfather's profession
about an item made of wood

He died by his stepfather's profession
carrying wood upon his back

He died by his stepfather's profession
with wood touching him
He died by his stepfather's profession
by wood with nails in skin...
Ironically this man of love and peace
who preached peace and
love knew about wood
by his earthly father;
died on wood...
Supernal king,
Thy beauty is lofty, and thy love is imposing!

You are neither haughty,
nor divided,
neither spiteful,
nor malevolent,
Whatever an unbeliever may say to the contrary!

Supernal king,
Thy repute is worthy of extolment!
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