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Painful are the days of my youth, How I wish I knew, For I’d evaded trouble before it strikes. I questioned; is the Lord ever kind Or is he truly love? ’Cos time pierced me sore, Pain has drained my mind. What is hope? While I suffer all alone, Don’t sing in my ears, Nor preach of any gospel. If God is indeed Lord, He’d answered before I call, For all my days are evil, Good times are dim and feeble, It’s a cloudless sky illusion, A drizzle before the storm. ∞ ∞ ∞
— Cotek