A Crow landed in a field of snow ,
Only for a moment ,
Lay a golden ball behind it .
It's. Sun lit Ray's cast its light on this field of snow ,
With only an trees of Oak to hide it .
Jingle Bells a **** Santa sells in shops all set for Christmas ,
With halo lights and tinsel ,
With too much beer ,
hell. draws near ,
and the tinsel town with its bright pritty lights ,
Sees. Sirens and sick men spewing in a gutter.
A winters blast of times long past ,
In Ashfords streets. Rattling cans ,
and Street grinders. , Santa Claws and slay.
pray happy tunes for weary souls
on a cold winters day .
Yet in 1898 the Americans mined for Gold ,
The Chilkoot. trail ,
Or the White pass ,
Ones hell ,
the others destruction .,
Which ever which way you'll wish you took the other .
Men's dreams of paradise would perish in the snow
Now a Cross of Roman wood outside a City gate for the Son of man did wait ,
Where blood trickled down from a thorny Crown ,
Unto Goblets made for thankful souls ,
for mans sin would be dealt with in just one day ,
To appease Gods holy wrath .
At dockers gate a man did wait and was crushed for want of bread ,
For God so loved ,
his only Son ,
to die on Roman wood .
For what hell could not hold ,
Paradise would enfold ,
Fountains of grace for many .,
Who turn from their sin ,
and trust in him.
For the Sun will rise on golden fields of green ,
and harvest souls where Crows once fed on soil fit for a King .
.
Nov 25, 2016
Nov 25, 2016 at 8:36 AM UTC
A Crow landed in a field of snow ,
Only for a moment ,
Lay a golden ball behind it .
It's. Sun lit Ray's cast its light on this field of snow ,
With only an trees of Oak to hide it .
Jingle Bells a **** Santa sells in shops all set for Christmas ,
With halo lights and tinsel ,
With too much beer ,
hell. draws near ,
and the tinsel town with its bright pritty lights ,
Sees. Sirens and sick men spewing in a gutter.
A winters blast of times long past ,
In Ashfords streets. Rattling cans ,
and Street grinders. , Santa Claws and slay.
pray happy tunes for weary souls
on a cold winters day .
Yet in 1898 the Americans mined for Gold ,
The Chilkoot. trail ,
Or the White pass ,
Ones hell ,
the others destruction .,
Which ever which way you'll wish you took the other .
Men's dreams of paradise would perish in the snow
Now a Cross of Roman wood outside a City gate for the Son of man did wait ,
Where blood trickled down from a thorny Crown ,
Unto Goblets made for thankful souls ,
for mans sin would be dealt with in just one day ,
To appease Gods holy wrath .
At dockers gate a man did wait and was crushed for want of bread ,
For God so loved ,
his only Son ,
to die on Roman wood .
For what hell could not hold ,
Paradise would enfold ,
Fountains of grace for many .,
Who turn from their sin ,
and trust in him.
For the Sun will rise on golden fields of green ,
and harvest souls where Crows once fed on soil fit for a King .
.
