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In the wake of the night I long to make a flight Out of this world and its trouble That saps my blood, making me wobble. To escape the tide of this wicked world I wish and will a ride on a cloud To drift my way to heaven's gate So fast I won't become The Late. Oh God of heaven and of earth You created me and gave me breath Your will to come do in this world So command the devil, his troubles still to stand!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

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