I’m living in a land of death The trees are burnt and gray There’s a smoldering smoke over head And the night looks the same as the day It seems the miracle that I can stand When everyone I’ve known Drifts up in the air with the ash Every time that the wind starts to blow But I feel alive with a life that’s not mine Your law is a stream in this wasteland; my lifeline. So much more than precious gold Are Your promises my Lord By them is Your servant warned, And keeping them great reward
Posted on: Wed, 10 Sep 2014 00:16:23 +0000
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