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The Old Church

Sitting in time Gods sanctuary Where in fields of wild flowers You can close your eyes And dream of days past Where every Sunday people would gather Dressed in Sunday's best And under gods roof you can still hear Angelic voices singing hymns of praise Near by the sound of the river Where people would wash their sins away As so many were left to nature's care As to the church of god

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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Book: Shattered Sighs