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More of Thee By Chris Just like a withered branch becomes useless to a tree, I too would surely perish separated Lord from Thee. Your presence is perfume it permeates the air, and as I seek Your face Your fragrance lingers there. Your anointing is so sweet like honey to my lips; saturate me from my head down to my fingertips. As a hungry newborn cries out to be fed, I depend on You Lord for my daily bread. Where Your glory falls there must be less of me; I know I should decrease so there'll be more of Thee. |
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