You will know him by his eyes,
They are like the blue light of God.
(I met him at the library,
We walk by faith and not by words,
So I met him at the library.)
He called out when I said good morning,
God made me an angel before,
It was dark and misty on the beaches of Chile,
I wasn’t sure what he called me for.
She was kind like Stephen,
His eyes are like the waves,
Angelica es su hija también,
Por eso él vencío la grave.
We talked about two Sauls,
One from today’s sermon, one like my soul,
And the antics of the boy I love,
When he’s escaped parole.
He said he’d come to see me at 9:30 or eleven o clock,
I reminded him of the spirit that calls us there,
He asked if the John I know would mind a runner…
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