| Stone Her if You Can | ||||
| A prostitute sits at the gate of a church Smoking a cigarrette, With eyes in search Of a comforting bet.. She leans against the cold wall As people passes by with gestures of disgrace, With whispers of judging call, A striking stone to embrace. While the innocent stones her with their curse She murmurs something to be free, "Amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me." |
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