Until we’re dead our self a crutch,
In love with it beyond too much.
We cringe at the physician’s knife,
Embrace disease that robs our life.
"And the daughter of Zion is left as a cottage in a vineyard, as a lodge in a garden of cucumbers, as a besieged city." – Isaiah 1:8
Until we’re dead our self a crutch,
In love with it beyond too much.
We cringe at the physician’s knife,
Embrace disease that robs our life.