ingredient

Missing Ingredient
1-9-18

New game of lucky nines
Just the same as all other signs
Behold the people reject me
Be glad that they don't select me
Anything sounds good first thing in the morning
In fiery trials with her sandbox
Following the sheep to outsmart the fox
Do you still think of those days Sister
In the depth of our roots
In the depth of our doubts as at last I've got on boots
As to exclaim to Sonya O, why me!
In all of such nihilism we are as it seems
I made a terrible mistake nothing that Jesus cannot handle
Gripping with such diversity
Don't you step out of line!
She will call you....





Greeting Olga
1-9-18

Compare not you with the other dance
Not to try to make it now with a brother a kill to seal our fate
Tonight but what about right now
As bull-whipped our spiritual biopsy to illustrate
We share the example enlisted at seventeen
As wool, do challenge our peace letting the Lord guide me
I prove it greeting Olga by the narrow way
God knows we have need of all of these things
As my clock is maimed right only twice a day
Into submission in this madness
Where light makes her flee
Be of good cheer for I will lead you along
As to serve in youth in writing this song...





Transition Lens
1-9-18

Given transition of a darkened lens
As to cleanse and count my twenties and tens
Where I fought it off for days as to scoff at upcoming Mays under the covenant
Abrahamic hoping to read it not just to check off a block
Where there is no law there is no transgression
Look out the south window to see if my travels if it is safe
In it close enough we inquire for a little paint
So that the eye doesn't faint
O, look to Jesus as positionally we are called a saint
Why not right now....




With Nephi (I Plea)
1-9-18

O, wretched man that I am
But awesome in the sight of God somehow
And by His grace Reckoned of such and not of debt
Aching hoping to say these are better days
As law works wrath yet classless O, Proletariat
And so it seems to hurt more when somebody cares
But last night I could live with it counting my blessings
For the distribution of goods and barometic pressure
In imperfect implementing
Fair enough wanting God more and more
Letting me know that I'm alive
O, square tough someday I'll rejoice
To wake at five of model and archetype
In collective unconsciousness
Sometimes you can fix it by yourself....