The Apostle Paul

The Apostle Paul

The Apostle Paul

eye rode a horse and jailed people in chains and one day GOD in the HEavens blinded me with a light and eye fell off my horse and lost my will to fight and put away my toy soldier sword of light

eye swam a lot in boat load accidents and walked out of prisons then one day they sent me to the cleaners they cleaned me out of all the house hold things and took my tent making tools away

the key to heaven is a needles eye getting wet then getting dry it pays to take some time away from work to preach the LORD asleep and the awake He rises to the test and then the light comes back to waken us again

sad sober reflections of the life we leave behind is all we really need

preach the life and not the lie we seem at odds Saint Peter and the eye

meat is nothing and food is good but women are not to be married

we teach a differant faith then life death seems so permanent to eye

The Cross is the way to Heaven the Death of the Savior the Lesson of Faith

he gave his all he had for love

we sinners get hurt and live with pain and hurt

we keep trying to keep going but the end is never far away the people come that can kill the body and then its over in this world we go away

find someone to bring me a coat iff its winter find someone to bring the books so we can preach

eye need some more coins so eye can pay Saint Peter

The Apostle Paul

charlax

Finesse

Finesse

Finesse

Moral morale is lacking finesse

freedom is not always free as they say

it comes with a government check and who is supposed to benifit

the potters field in flanders field the dead the dead forgotten men of war the real heros are the dead not able to Salute the few who lived remember them with crys of solitude the Honor among the thieves today is lacking finesse they sneak around the snakes the stakes of Mormon the tents of freedom where are the dead heros emulated outcries where is the price of solitude where lies the Hermit where is the unsung Gentleman

in potters field we sing of flowers grown above the gravestone

we sing of power in the giving of the lives we shared our power with the living left our wives and went to Heaven growing flowers on the covered walls of freedom marching in place marking time waiting for deliverance day lacking all finesse we have forgotten how to pray but still we wait for emergences from our fate the end shall come and all finesse abate