I have this itty bitty inkling
And it’s creeping and it’s crawling
And it’s sneaking and it’s calling
This little quiet suspicion
And some days I pay attention
And some days I have no recollection
What I hear whispered through my ear
It makes me laugh, it makes me cry
It makes me scream and wonder why
The audacious thought in my head
I run from it, I run to it
I come unglued by it
That maybe
Somehow maybe
He is good.
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