you tellem I never owed God nothin'
or He's a liar.
So, it ain't no debt t' God what Jesus called Our Father,
in theithereal-orgnot heaven of heavenly places
from PIE root *kailo- "whole, uninjured, of good omen" (see health).
is yur name,
give us, we ax ye, this day plenty enough
It ain't no debt we all owe our father who it seems,
if you can belive it, is known
to have give us defined rights we can't loose.
So it must be money debt we be axin
for give and for get, two words diffi-cult for me, but your knowing my
ever intention assumed, I pray on but
add a deal,
based on my believing you in me is all I need to pull my weight,
do to me as I do to others, I dare you. Oops
forgive our, our, Jesus said, our, (He surely was debt-free, to God, right)
debt to anybody or thing, not you, cause the reconcilin' was done,
the angels, messengers to earth from God knows where,
they say. Peace, on earth. God and the disconnected reconnected.
At the first breath, God knew, ah
this is why iyob refered me to the flesh as an experience ungodly,
by design, as it were.
Well now. We know. All fixed. Fret not. The crossed wires were
the insulation needed an upgrade anyway,
it is finished. Listen.
Clear signal right? Quiet,
Think what peace on earth would feel like, imagine
having a one eight-billionth part
in making that happen,
by being peaceful in your self, in a noisy moment of
when odd ceased meaning untouchable and
truth as a way of life made peace
with all our reasons for war, once honored by faith in a lie
cold-cocked by the reason for the faith in me.
I heard the first line, and imagined an elderly black lady who sold mulberry colored hats in 1961, on main street Plaquimene, La., sayin to white boy, me Now, you listen, and she tol' me what a froward mout can do. I think I recall sayin' I'd watch it, my froward moth.