abide to the Angels all you could lose, bet to the gods any sins or transgressions, breech eash little dam til the weather does dawn, over the valleys and hillsides of Heaven, count up to Him higher disenchating confessions, 3 steps further down and pointing and laughing at you, infinite sadness is happiness the universal conception, brassier sounds louder trumpets this jovial procession, to all glory do we praise the higher power, the more humble we feel in the glaring, and only coldness do we feel in regression, but the river runs faster to the sea, a flood relenting and drowning destructive deluge, in swirling the acts of kindness and mercy into one, and only one majestic column of reflection, and into all data and morals may we form... copyright 2001 12-16-2001 by jw farmer dont ask me what this is about...I don't know myself...some pseudo-religious thought...