The blinders gone, there's no disguise... No more masks to hide behind...

Who could only see the pain and toil... Hurting from the water boil... Has been transformed to healing oil... And when this balm is given out... Storms are calmed where chaos shouts... The scales have fallen off these eyes... The blinders gone, there's no disguise... No more masks to hide behind...

Fullmoon reflecting on water

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Plenty Of Fish In The Seas, Tricks, Trades, Barter Wits And Charms. DreamsI want this tree!!

Plenty Of Fish In The Seas, Tricks, Trades, Barter Wits And Charms. Dreams

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The tasks at hand I search to find... Perspectives change when we humbly bow... And suffer through the working plow... From hardened ground to oil jars... From threshing floors to picked apart... The wounds that heal may leave us scars... But even those shine like the stars... Just like our SAVIOR’S broken flesh... Torn apart for water fresh... To flow into our human mess... And wash away the brokenness...

PEOPLE SAY ACT LIKE DON'T GIVE A FUCK. ASSN MOTHERFUCKERS... I'M NOT ACTING.'FRIENDLY REMINDER THE HOLOCAUST WAS LEGAL SLAVERY WAS LEGAL .The blinders gone, there's no disguise... No more masks to hide behind...

Financing Statement Addendum (Form UCC1Ad).SOLAR LEASE AND THE UCC TERMINATION: SUNGEVITY-ACCOUNT NO. 227047-ESPINOZA, TONY- 'PLEASE SATANISE YOUR HANDS.'ITS ENGLISH, NOT STUPID, JUST SAYING, EXPLAIN, WHAT?

Elves love their music here are some of the instruments they play.I Love Fairies Angels And Mythical Creatures And Fantasy.REVIEW: Case Files Unearthed: Legendary Truth Haunted House at Universal Orlando’s Hall...Covering Universal Studios Theme Parks Around the World. Who could only see the pain and toil... Hurting from the water boil... Has been transformed to healing oil... ARon Anderson

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Elves love their music here are some of the instruments they play.The blinders gone, there's no disguise... No more masks to hide behind...The tasks at hand I search to find... Perspectives change when we humbly bow... And suffer through the working plow... From hardened ground to oil jars... From threshing floors to picked apart... The wounds that heal may leave us scars... But even those shine like the stars... Just like our SAVIOR’S broken flesh... Torn apart for water fresh... To flow into our human mess... And wash away the brokenness...