Chapter 42: Gifts
August 2nd, 2010
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Suddenly every mistake he's ever made has a purpose. Suddenly he's thankful for his sadness; he's thankful for his fear. They've shaped his life, and given him a story:
one that he's happy to tell despite his guilt. So the Killer raises up his head, and his tears break around his joy.
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Would you consider it a great insult
if I don't begin to resist the mountain slide?
Cause all that falls
is come from God
and I'm buried on
the mountain top
When the avalanche begins
I take another sin
as I'm holding on to limbs
Patience is a long beach
like the one behind me
like the one I'm raking
See how long it's taken
to organize the grain
like thoughts in drops of rain
So I can stay the same
So written I remain
And the avalanche begins
sweeping up what's His
of everything I missed
that was upon the shore
that was and is no more
The avalanche begins
with wind upon my skin
I felt it as a kid
that the wait was on my knees
to speak the things I see
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