A Bed That Breathes With Him
Half-handed Cloud
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The stangers attacking
Our hearts are all lacking
But God means nothing to them
The hit-men hold coupons
And say God is gone
Or trying to do me in
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Oh search and be silent
On a bed that breathes with Him
Our hearts are forgetting
The thugs are all betting
That God will only condemn
Their questions rhetorical
I wish they'd get homesick
And find their way back again