Seven weeks i'll wait for you/ counting every day/to hear those sweet words that you'll say// back in the/ holy land/in the o so long ago /waiting for the /harvest moon was /slow//barley figs pomegranates /olives and dates /golden sheaves of wheat in decorative crates/on the back of oxen, were flowers oh so pretty/ a musical parade ascends to the holy city//

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we will stay up all night long /some coffee would be nice/
gourmet organic chessecake/ I think I'll have another slice

thinking 'bout a mountain top/ lightning and thunder/divine instruction/revelation and wonder

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just to hear your still small voice and your heartbeat next to mine/ i'm counting from one and i'm going all the way to forty-nine //as every week goes by I'm a little closer to you/ my pent up Pentecost feelings are breaking on through


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