Wearing stains of many times we wind and find our selves behind in tastes and tasks and many masks, up in hell now, wearing black, safe so fast and change will last, no more strangers only time and dangers, an iron rod and a humble sin, when will the end of all trouble begin? we garner pleasures deep and sound yet find ourselves buried deep in ground. wakefulness and confidence man, walking miles and nearing town

baby blaze in sunlight, crazy moonlight, keeps lamp burning all through the night

peace unto thee, my love

Good King Amoibé


www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/g/o/goodking.htm