I stared in the mirror until I no longer recognised my face but saw in my reflection that friday’s child is a trumpet of peace and a sword of deliverance from the forces of darkness
I laid me down by the still waters an oasis of life in the motherless waste where the wisest of fools will surrender their hearts to the love universal
I’ve been turned out with no brass in my pockets but I count the stars as personal wealth my home is heaven this born again loser who supped with the devil and drank to his health
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