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The deer owns not the forest
The pig owns not his sty
I do not own the land
On which I live until I die.
The fish owns not the river
The bird owns not the sky
I do not own the breath I breathe
Nor yet the tears I cry.
I do not own my wife or sons
To you I will not lie
I do not own my house or car
Nor any mortal tie.
Perhaps I own my inner light
Or maybe it owns me.
The rest is borrowed, for a while,
On loan from God to me.