I sat with her today
In that last awful place
Counting the bones between
The lines upon her face.
Now I don’t know what happens
To the bread or to the wine
But You were with her today
And with her You were dying.
I sat with her today
In that last awful place
Counting the bones between
The lines upon her face.
Now I don’t know what happens
To the bread or to the wine
But You were with her today
And with her You were dying.
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