| shook out my salvation
|
| in all four corners of my room
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| lowly is the dust
|
| trustworthy the broom
|
| white lady
|
| growlin on a chain
|
| peacock caw the sound of my lover’s name
|
| the tone was pure and played on gut
|
| from your birdhouse aflame
|
| your fire burns for me red as grace
|
| the blush came easily to your face
|
| your fire burns for me red as grace
|
| and she says that none would have her
|
| as a boy I too drew near
|
| to the love of dust
|
| toughskin blue light cowboy
|
| idle hands they rust
|
| your fire burns for me red as grace
|
| the blush came easily to your face
|
| your fire burns for me red as grace
|
| and she says that none would have her
|
| let us allow the character to build
|
| wise as serpents and harmless as doves
|
| let’s allow the emptiness to fill
|
| rich mercy and brotherly love
|
| your fire burns for me red as grace
|
| the blush came easily to your face
|
| your fire burns for me red as grace
|
| and she says that none would have her |