When tears flow, they wipe them with a handkerchief, When blood flows, they hurry with their sponges, But when the spirit seeps out under oppression, They don’t come running with an open hand, ’Til God, with a flash of lightning,…
When tears flow, they wipe them with a handkerchief, When blood flows, they hurry with their sponges, But when the spirit seeps out under oppression, They don’t come running with an open hand, ’Til God, with a flash of lightning,…