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    Oh my beloved world
    You have given me so much and yet so little
    Always offering an answer to my questions
    Always with a comeback for where I come from
    And yet here I stand
    Still full of questions of self
    For your responses my world,
    Have been an unread subscription
    That lingers on the coffee table
    With images that grab.
    But your answers do not fill
    So I just wanna say, "Yo soy libre"
    Because I have been freed by the great I Am.

    For I am as the cobblestone on
    The Grand Concourse that call out
    From breaks in the asphalt
    What was once suffocating
    From sinful tar and stony heart
    Has been freed from the heat of Grace
    I now see through the melting-pot holes
    And now by my presence I call out
    To the world that this land on the
    Surface is not all there is or was
    Yo soy libre porque El me ha liberado
    ¡Libre!

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    I am Carravagio spray painted
    On the Spanish-Harlem wall
    The beauty is unquestionable
    And it calls out to all
    But some choose to dismiss it
    As Medieval graffiti
    Chaining themselves up
    With the fetters of false ideologies
    Worshipping the beauty of creation
    While executing in their hearts the Creator
    Who has freed me
    Yo soy libre porque El me ha liberado
    ¡Libre!

    I am one who stands in awe of the martyrs,
    But my tastes have changed
    For once my heroes were
    Pancho Villa, Che and Trotsky
    For these died for what they believed
    But man cannot find his end in himself
    I too have envied the rich
    Wishing it were I instead of they
    For these lived for what they achieved or received
    But man cannot be his own measure
    So I have traded in the rhetoric of empowerment
    For the contradiction of the Cross.
    And now I know what freedom is
    Yo soy libre porque El me ha liberado
    ¡Libre!

    For what the Lord has kept from the wise and learned
    He had revealed to mere children
    That one must lose his life in order to gain it
    Now my heroes are
    A wrinkled blue and white
    Flower from Calcutta
    A bishop of a war torn land
    Killed for preaching peace
    And a man who goes throughout the world
    Clothed in white
    Saying, "Do not be afraid"
    Lord, help me not to be afraid…
    Lord, I need you to help me to not to be afraid…
    Porque Yo soy libre,
    Tu me has liberado.
    Libre.

    Song details

    Composition: Fr. Stan Fortuna

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