Why, at my meetin’s I used to get the girls a-glory-shoutin’ till they about passed out. Then I’d go to comfort them. I’d always end up by lovin’ ‘em. I’d feel bad, an’ pray, an’ pray—but it didn’t do no good. Next time, do it again.
A girl was just a girl to you. To me they was holy vessels. I was savin’ their souls. I ast myself—what is this call, the Holy Sperit? Maybe that’s love. Why, I love everybody so much I’m fit to bust sometimes!
Why, at my meetin’s I used to get the girls a-glory-shoutin’ till they about passed out. Then I’d go to comfort them. I’d always end up by lovin’ ‘em. I’d feel bad, an’ pray, an’ pray—but it didn’t do no good. Next time, do it again.
A girl was just a girl to you. To me they was holy vessels. I was savin’ their souls. I ast myself—what is this call, the Holy Sperit? Maybe that’s love. Why, I love everybody so much I’m fit to bust sometimes!