God disguised as myriad things, and playing a game of tag has kissed you and said, “You’re it. I mean you’re really it. Now it does not matter what you believe or feel. For something wonderful, something major-league wonderful, is someday going to happen.”
Listen; this world is the lunatic’s sphere , Don’t always agree it’s real, Even with my feet upon it And the postman knowing my door My address is somewhere else.
