The brick is brac,
It's in his sack,
He loses hope.
High above the warehouse,
A man finds a charm,
But what is lost.
In life, the spirit, can't you hear it,
I, truly can,
What is lost but his soul,
For an item untold,
If indeed he needed it, God would have control,
It saddens me to see a man, turned so fosty cold,
Without hope, you have lost, the item that God would love you to hold!
The bric is brac,
It's in his sac,
He loses his soul!!
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