We are tinkerers with Gods toys
Having fanciful dreams and ploys
With in the limits of our imagination
Without the benefit of the power of Creation
Living each day by the Gift of Grace
Not able to withstand the light of His face
Not able to live without killing
Grist in the mill for the milling
Yet the strain holds on
Living life is sometimes fun
To be free of the strain of sinning
If only I were free of the losing and winning
.
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