Sundays come
and my thoughts run randonmly
they are strong and deep
but I pray for my spirit to push me
I frequently faulter far from my soul
and I can barely stand still
when I walk I keep falling deeper
in an endless hole
I am affraid of my mind
intimidated by my loose cannon
there is nothing holy here
no wing I spread nor a smile to find
I sit now without a push behind me
I can't seem to walk in his house
knowing my faith is down
screaming coast to coast for harmony
I have a want to break this curse
while the world is turning
and loving and living is on going
There will always be another burning verse.
(INCREDIBLE INK- TEAM JAGUAR HAWAII!!)
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