(For Virginie)
It`s mixed
with the voice of an angel
That`s why I
heard it
I heard it
loud and clear
Like the
aged-old tolling bells of our church
Even so,
it`s still my voice
But one
touched and blessed
By the
Almighty
That`s why
at the least opportunity
I dish it
out
Yes, I do.
Surely I`m
neither Kane nor Abel
But still, I
believe I`m fit
To be among
those he considers dear
Never have I
been left in the lurch
Compulsorily
or by choice
Even when
I`m hard-pressed
In a world
so rickety
How else can
one avoid the oddity?
Than to
fight it out
By doing
what he wants us to do?
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