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Но меня мало волнуют церковники и их прихожане.
Начав критику в их адрес, я автоматически их осужу---а это грех.
Господь им судья!!!
Антоний писал(а):Действительно пипец!!!![]()
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Но меня мало волнуют церковники и их прихожане.
Начав критику в их адрес, я автоматически их осужу---а это грех.
Господь им судья!!!
Reach out and touch faith
Your own personal Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who cares
Your own personal Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who's there
Feeling unknown
And you're all alone
Flesh and bone
By the telephone
Lift up the receiver
I'll make you a believer
Take second best
Put me to the test
Things on your chest
You need to confess
I will deliver
You know I'm a forgiver
Reach out and touch faith
Reach out and touch faith
Your own personal Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who cares
Your own personal Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who's there
Feeling unknown
And you're all alone
Flesh and bone
By the telephone
Lift up the receiver
I'll make you a believer
I will deliver
You know I'm a forgiver
Reach out and touch faith
Your own personal Jesus
Reach out and touch faith
So you never knew love
Until you crossed the line of grace.
And you never felt wanted
Till you'd someone slap your face.
So you never felt alive
Until you'd almost wasted away.
You had to win, you couldn't just pass
The smartest ass at the top of the class
Your flying colours, your family tree
And all your lessons in history.
Please, please, please
Get up off your knees.
Please, please, please, please, oh yeah.
And you never knew how low you'd stoop
To make that call
And you never knew what was on the ground
Till they made you crawl.
So you never knew that the heaven
You keep you stole.
Your Catholic blues, your convent shoes,
Your stick-on tattoos now they're making the news
Your holy war, your northern star
Your sermon on the mount from the boot of your car.
Please, please, please
Get up off your knees.
Please, please, please
Leave me out of this, please.
So love is hard
And love is tough
But love is not
What you're thinking of.
September, streets capsizing
Spilling over down the drains
Shard of glass, splinters like rain
But you could only feel your own pain.
October, talk getting nowhere.
November, December; remember
We just started again.
Please, please, please
Get up off your knees, yeah.
Please, please, please, please, ah.
So love is big
Is bigger than us.
But love is not
What you're thinking of.
It's what lovers deal
It's what lovers steal
You know I've found it
Hard to receive
'Cause you, my love
I could never believe.
Babetta писал(а):Ааааа, Черная Мадонна!!!))) А говорят, негры ею в своих вудуистских культах пользуются... Но врать не буду, мало что об этом знаю.