Every Sundays getting more bleak A fresh poison each week We - TopicsExpress



          

Every Sundays getting more bleak A fresh poison each week We were born sick, you heard them say it My church offers no absolutes She tells me worship in the bedroom The only heaven Ill be sent to Is when Im alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well Amen. Amen. Amen Take me to church Ill worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies Ill tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death Good God, let me give you my life https://youtube/watch?v=MYSVMgRr6pw
Posted on: Thu, 11 Dec 2014 05:11:56 +0000

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