
Grace For Sale Terrance Zdunich
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A sheep has left the fold
Hoof beats go trotting, trotting
Up to heaven, bold
At the gates, knocking knocking
Sheep in wolfish clothes
Holy jaws are dropping
Up in Heaven's hold
Plant my hooves, my hooks, my books
Once upon a time
Heaven was a towered tower
Tethered in its pride
Castor's grace is sour, sour
Thought the ink was dried
But hellish gardens flowered
Ivy to be climbed
Spread my filth, my wings, my weeds, my weeds
My fairest wheels are turning
Hark the angels wail
Bedtime is a-burning, burning
We've got grace for sale
How the worm is turning turning
Lay you down to sleep
With wicked little stories
Count your missing sheep
Shed my skin, my fleece, my sin, my worms
Hoof beats go trotting, trotting
Up to heaven, bold
At the gates, knocking knocking
Sheep in wolfish clothes
Holy jaws are dropping
Up in Heaven's hold
Plant my hooves, my hooks, my books
Once upon a time
Heaven was a towered tower
Tethered in its pride
Castor's grace is sour, sour
Thought the ink was dried
But hellish gardens flowered
Ivy to be climbed
Spread my filth, my wings, my weeds, my weeds
My fairest wheels are turning
Hark the angels wail
Bedtime is a-burning, burning
We've got grace for sale
How the worm is turning turning
Lay you down to sleep
With wicked little stories
Count your missing sheep
Shed my skin, my fleece, my sin, my worms
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