Paroles de Adulterous

Lord who createdest man in wealth and store Thought foofishly he lost the same Decaying more and more and more Till he became most poore with thee O let me rise as larks harmonisiously And sing this day thy victoris Then shall the fall furter, now! My tender age in sorrows did beginne And still with sickness and shame Thou didst so punish sinne That I became most thinne with thee O let me combine And fell this day thy victorie