| Ruler serve, servant King
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| Suffering servant, sit with that
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| Sit with that
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| Well I may live here but I ain’t from here
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| I bear marks of my origin story
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| One of soil and sky
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| I hold inside a balance, a sort of paradox
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| That my greatest strength is strengthening others
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| Is being in awe and wonder
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| Seeing in the iris of others, my king and my kin all over me
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| In them, fingerprints in tree rings, it’s not what you think
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| A story of glory and suffering
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| Rejecting conquest and colonies
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| Inviting awe to pause and give thought, huh
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| you ever thinking you are not made of good and glory
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| It’s a whole court against any contradictions
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| Between message and messenger
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| Let this living epistle leak love and longing
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| Let my limbs never get co-opted by anything beneath legacy
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| Let me words resound the vibrations of God
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| And it was good, I had no answers
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| Just patience and empathy and acceptance and oneness
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| And hope and understanding and kindness and goodness
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| May I lavish you with the idea
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| That the cosmos conspired
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| To co-mingle your personage
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| With the divine iron eye
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| For real, inside of me and you
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| City on a hill
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| City on a hill |