O’ Holy Waters

Freshly and clean.

The fishes are swimming to bayside.

Where’s the fisherman?

When its Sunday service, and

And a fish fry.

Mommas kitchen’s,

Is arosey smelling good up in here.

No part from,

Foster love.

Minute by minutes, and

Hour by hours.

They stand ushering.

Raising funds for the feast Mercado Hall.

This Saturday pastor luncheon or we are.

Hoping for a better day to come.

Almighty God.

The curtain shuts, and only a few people are still here.

Who honor.

Him.

with,

welcomes.

Your.

chances,

will come.

Only with surprises.

You’ll see,

Just how good.

He’s,

been to us.

 

 

 

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