Cliche Kyrielle
This weary soul has toiled long
This heart has worn itself out in song,
Oh, Lord, have mercy on me.
This aching back, bent in the fields,
Working stony ground, and no profit yields.
Oh, Lord, have mercy on me.
I’ll cross those waters one fine day,
And this battered soul will fly away.
Oh, Lord, have mercy on me.
But till then I’ve got an axe to grind,
I’ll sow an’ reap and maybe find,
the Lord’ll have mercy on me.
Copyright © Ashley Poort | Year Posted 2011
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