I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on the roses
And the voice I hear falling on my ear
The Son of God discloses
And He walks with me, and He talks with me
And He tells me I am His own
And the joy we share as we tarry there
None has ever known
I'd stay in the garden with Him
Tho' the night around me be falling
But He bids me go thro' the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling
What!
He did~(6?9)~did eH
NOT
have
a
choice?
a
choice?
THE
DANGER
of
PSYCHOLOGY(?)OF(?) RELIGION
Can't help but feel sad
for
G. ROBERT(BERT)GARY, JR.
M(?)Div
and HIS mother.
A little bit at least ,
anyway.
Testosterone(!)Bob,
thy father
(Rev.) G. ROBERT GARY, SR. Th(?)D
laughed when that day
I
said:
"I LEAVE MY
ASSHOLE
AT HOME ON THE TOILET WHEN ALL ALONE!"











































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