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TURNING POINT


On my right hand is a gun,
With it, on my left all I can,
The preacher was mine target
All offerings on Sunday we would get.

'Praise The Lord' was his word,
"Amen" the congregation's reward.
What a stupid pastor; mine reasoning
Thousands of cash are ours this evening.

'Let us bow for a word of prayers',
Here we were all the players,
'Wait'! He exclaim, 'there are criminals
Here in church!'have come to life of eternal'.

'Hey you! Be not afraid to repent
It's a better step you shalt',
My eyes wide open, my gun I held
And shoot, all kisses the floor, "if lift head bald".

To the preacher gun I pointed,
Eyes contact conformed pain has ended.
My gang away out there they ran
As salvation this day in church I earn.

My eyes greatly went wet
On my knee this time I went,
Sinful life from that day to date I hate,
My sins I confessed, bread of life I ate.

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