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Flock

 

god has gone

but man lives on

to sing to him

in hymnal song

like fallen tree

in vacant wood

no roots where once

foundations stood

don't build upon

the shifting sand

in hope that god

might still his hand

the church hall scowls

with empty chairs

for like the wood

there's no one there

so in obeyance

man see's the light

and follows on

as good sheep might

 

 

◄ Mackerel

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