Lyrics:
I draw you through a straw of leaves
to where the trees grow in the mud.
And both are down here on our knees - as if there is no shame.
To feel the fire. Oh to feel the fire!
Doves bathe in silvery air.
Gray doves bathe in the silvery air!
I cry, but I don’t care!
I cry and I don’t care.
I draw you through a straw of leaves
to where trees grow in sticky mud.
‘As if there is no guilt.’
Oh to feel the fire!
Doves bathe in silvery air
- they fog up my glasses.
I cry, but I don’t care!
I cry and I don’t care.
stop buying computers for people who are legally children
So jealous of my dog, just lying there all curled up and cosy, while Shostakovich is playing and it rains outside
God has not been trying an experiment on my faith or love in order to find out their quality. He knew it already. It was I who didn’t… He always knew that my temple was a house of cards. His only way of making me realize the fact was to knock it down.
C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (via sustainedbygrace)





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