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From
Blake
And
where
the
Angels,
where
the
Lord
To
lead
us
home
with
outstretched
arm?
As
clouds
unfold
infernal
doom,
Does
God
walk
here,
guide
us
from
harm?
Did
we
make
Christ
a
circus
act,
With
apostles
juggling
fish?
Does
savior
who
walked
on
water,
Now
perform
as
aerialist?
We
search
the
sky
for
sign
of
Jesus
To
take
us
home
on
his
high
wire.
But
bring
us
Fish
nets
to
catch
us!
Swing
low
that
Chariot
of
fire!
I
saw
towers
turn
to
smokestacks
And
the
city
skyline
blacken
On
the
day
Blakes
Satanic
mills
Spewed
dark
clouds
upon
Manhattan.
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