Good News for the Pus Pickers

Seven flowers on the hour cry

"We are groaning for the sons,

Of the One who makes us sing,

To reveal themselves this spring"

We just got outta jail today

And we all are here to say,

All us speaking for the band,

Airplane faith is in your hand

Through the fire and the river

But never ever all alone,

When He set the broken bone,

Hell the grave fell overthrown

On heals Kingdom Come

Comfort creme pours out

On the limb there is the children

Opposite of doormat

So tip your hat and wait on that

And that is that

The last kick

In the teeth

Is the first

Of the blocks

Set to song,

Hum along

And poisons peeved

Double minded me off

Of myself

Dust the eyes

Of my heart

That's on the shelf

We have all picked our noses tall,

Pitfalls and black holes have robbed,

But thanksgiving was our sail,

In three shakes of the lamb's tail

Seven flowers on the hour cry

"Balance seems to be the key,

Join into the famile,

Singing let us a.b.c."

They call me chief, they call me hoss

"You call me son, so I am son"

We live in two worlds, unseen and seen

"Kingdom squeaky clean, resting squeaky clean"

Join into the ships, when your mind is wild

"You call me child, so I am child"