A mustard seed is
(Gas been said)
All that men will need, a filthy boy in a Bowery lane
Under the times in a drowning rain
Stealing bits of sleep again has heard this common creed
Grows into the tallest tree to cool down
The sinner's heat, I know this man, he's much like I
A doubter's cusp, a braggart's pyre
Sweltering in brandy mire and selling bitter meat
Exemplary of faith, I guess, starts with naught but soil
Upon the shoes of wayward men
Ministers will not befriend, smite the temple yet again
Spill their precious oil
I've thrown my seed out the window
Down in the dirt below, I'll water it with my distrust
My blatant well worn rough hewn crust
I'll mojo it with voodoo dust and pray that it will grow

ENVIAR CORRECCIONES