Venus, The Morning Star

At seven this morning I glanced out east at the bright morning star.  

The picture is not as clear as I would like, I remained stiff, the open window was allowing the frost laden wind to enter, and I was still half asleep.  I still am.

The 'Morning Star,' is usually the planet Venus hanging about just before sunrise.  Occasionally its place is taken by Mercury during July to September, or Sirius at other times.  

Jesus is of course referred to as the 'Morning Star,' and John Wycliffe was called the 'Morning Star of the Reformation.  'Morning Star,' was the name of a Cheyanne Leader, also known as 'Dull Knife,' though I suspect not to his face.  The USA, as you may have expected, has several small towns called 'Morning Star,' for reasons unknown and I canny be bothered to look.       

Several Ships have carried this name including six Royal Naval vessels dating from a Dutch Ketch captured in 1672 to an 'M' Class Destroyer launched in 1915, and a Broad Guage locomotive was built by the Great Western Railway in 1839 and called by this name.  This was intended for sale to the USA.

'The Morning Star' is of course a somewhat left leaning London based paper.   Known once as the 'Daily Worker,' it was unashamedly Communist, now under the new name it struggles to survive and leans towards the Labour Party.  I suspect none of the 'Workers' involved come from a working class background.  Most true Socialists today are Middle Class and have never done a proper days work in their lives.  Just saying like.

Films and TV have made use of the name, songs abound as do albums, musicals and even a variety of cannabis, though you will know more about that than I do.  

This reflects the effect the 'Morning Star' has upon the people when we see it rise.  The fact that the vast majority have never seen it, most not rising before sunrise, is not worth considering.  The sight, not reflected very well by the picture, of a bright shining Morning Star against a deep blue background, sometimes accompanied by a crescent moon can live in the memory.  Maybe that is why this is replicated on the Pakistan Flag?

Now I have scribbled this I am back off to bed...

 

 

Stiff Sunday

 

Feeling good I decided to up the exercise.  That night I slept with the satisfaction of a good job well done.  The next day there was a bit of stiffness, ignored by me, and I just got on with doing very little in the usual manner.  For some reason stiffness after exercise takes longer to make a show off itself!  So this morning, as I rose and shone to the world, my back ached!  Slovenly I creaked about, struggling to get moving.  My knees were not happy, but that I could manage OK.  The back however, stiffened badly.  There was no point in going out, my head was not awake anyway, so I refused the offer of a lift as I could not move properly, instead spending some time walking around trying to loosen the back.  This I reckon should work by Tuesday.

After all these years I should know better.  I suffered this when working often enough, then however, I could keep moving so it did not hinder me, now I just sit slumped after another period of what some call 'loosening up.'   

This means tomorrow I must get back to exercise in the afternoon, as the only way to beat this is to keep moving.  This time of course I must also stretch better than before, that helps avoid this ache.  

'Age shall not weary them,' I know now what this means...

 

Another 'Nothing to Say,' Evening

 

I began this early in the morning after I came back from the shops.  However, I had nothing to say at the time so I left it.  Now, having watched two football games, washed and shaved, eaten badly, and ache all over with trying to exercise away my aches, I find I have even less to say.  A quick run through the media shows there is nothing to say there either, a search of the tv schedules reveals absolutely nothing worth watching and the radio iplayer may be searched out soon.  So, it's another 'Nothing to Say' evening.

Tesco and Sue

 

 

The pink in the few clouds early on tempted me outside this morning.  Luckily however, my head was not awake until much later.  Long after 10:30 I stumbled downstairs and sauntered through the town centre streets to Tesco.

In spite of Boris's absurd determination to kill us all by claiming masks were no longer required the vast majority inside Tesco were masked.  Some also, aged and possibly infirm, wore masks outside.  This town has lost many to the virus, though strangely enough few people I know can speak of any friend or neighbour who has died from this virus.  Still, Tory lovers or not they do not believe Boris and would wonder where Chris Whitty and his men are these days, why have they been removed from the media? 

Toddling through the crowd, actually for a Friday a very small crowd in the shop, I obtained my wishes, ensuring I glanced at the list I had made, filled my basket, I always use a basket as it is easier than a trolley and enables me to get past women with trollies much easier, and headed for the young lass at the checkout.  It was only as I unpacked the bag back home that I remembered the things some old fool had not bothered to put on the shopping list!  I think matron needs to have a word.

 

National

 

A trapped fox is less cunning that Boris.  Or is that less desperate?  

With the Sue Gray report on his illegal parties about to be published we find the Met Police now insisting she avoids all mentions of parties because this may prejudice their investigation.  This, Twitters lawyers appear to say is unjustified and an interference in her work.  I wonder who put Cressida up to this?

Journalists, something no longer found in the UK media, investigating something may well publish their information.  Police, taking this to court, will soon find no media mentioning the item until the legal work is complete.  So, why should Sue, on whom the nation leans, not publish a full report?

No reason, just another Boris cover up.

 

Algrithim Vengeance

 

So, my nephew's girl posted a picture on FaceBook.  This is not unusual.  

What was unusual was that I looked at it without dismissing it as rubbish like so many of them posted by those two are.  A picture of a young lout driving around in the snow, late at night, in a supermarket carpark.  The blurb with it claimed 'They are only having fun, let them be, and only their car or themselves will be hurt.'  

This ignored the neighbours who have their eardrums burst by the noise of course, or the damage done to the furniture in the car park, or any costs for damage, which they will not pay as they run away.  Being young enables you to be thoughtless towards others and completely taken over by whatever you are doing.  Tsk!  We never did things like this when we were young.  Of course we had no cars, only one young man amongst us had a car, and his folks had money, but that does not matter.  

Round here similar gatherings have seen dozens of cars meet, create chaos, intefere with those using the many late night facilities, and creating a huge noise nusance.  The police have cut this down, fines, bans have had an effect on the people responsible, growing up, finding work, and a girl friend has also limited the gatherings somewhat.  

All that apart, I considered a quick, appropriate reply to this facebook post, 

'Just shoot them,' I said helpfully.  

When I went on facebook later it appears I am banned again 'for violence' this time.  How can removing such youths in an efficient manner be considered 'violence,' when the US cops, and that is where facebook originates, do this daily?  It all appears confused in my mind as white supremacists, anti-vaxxers lying about Covid, or flat earth people and politicians are never removed 'for violence,' at any stage.  

It now is revealed that I am also banned from a variety of groups and other luxuries that I may miss by the time the 29 day ban has ended.  Or maybe not as the case goes. 

A close examination of all the six reasons to ban me all involve humour, only an algorithm would do this, no human reader, and all are harmless, usually posted on Twitter without a problem, also elsewhere.  

I suppose it means I will have to find other means of causing arguments, Twitter today, and somewhere else tomorrow.  Maybe I ought to visit a town centre pub tomorrow night?

 

Waterloo to Southwark - Most Excellent London History Walk

Mr Putin and Hot Water Bottles

 

With that nice Mr Putin sabre rattling along the Ukraine border, well I suppose as he has the Crimea he is actually sabre rattling inside Ukraine, I have come up with a winning idea to end his power, this is based on his gas pipeline.

Hot Water Bottles!

This excellent article in the 'Low Tech Magazine,' leads me to believe by artful use of these devices we can save the world. All we need to do is give every citizen two Rubber Hot Water Bottles and immediately see the gas and electric bills come hurtling down.  A hot bottle at the back, one at the feet, a cup of tea and a wee blanket over the knees and the majority of the citizens (or 'subjects of Her Majesty' if you are a royalist) will find the cold weather no longer a problem.  Their heating bills will end, their various body ailments will resolve themselves quicker, and the only cost will be heating the kettle to fill the bottles.  That will not cost much, though the water companies might become confused if they find more money coming in, this may lead to them investing in infrastructure rather than pouring sewage into the local rivers and beaches.  

By using an old kettle alongside the one for making tea it would be possible to keep reusing the water also, this too would save money.  Kerchiiing!

Of course the bottles will have to come from China, this may upset the balance of payments but I doubt anyone would notice as under this government Brexit has already destroyed the economy, apart from the bit where Tory donors have made a killing.  

A slight problem may also be the ship loads of containers required being held up at Felixstowe.  

For a start the ship will have to wait outside for many days before unloading, then there is the paperwork, much of which being in Chinese will be easier to understand than the paperwork written hastily by a tired civil servant somewhere in Whitehall, more probably at home while fighting the children, the dog, the cat, the wife).  Several long days, not counting weekends, Covid staff shortages, shortage of lorries, trains delayed by staff shortages, and computer failure later the bottles may well be on their way.

Councils, the NHS, and friends of Boris will be willing to help ensure the right people get the bottles.  The Councils and the NHS will be diligent in their operation, quite what will happen to the  containers sent to Tory donors in Norfolk and Suffolk where the rich live might not make the BBC news.  

This is such a good idea that already I am looking forward to my knighthood, or even better, seat in the House of Lords.  A Peerage would be the least of my rewards, especially as I have given the Boris Party £50 as a bribe donation to ensure this project goes through.  

All around the nation will be warm, and as I sit dozing at £350 a day on the red benches, I will be comforted by the many letters, e-mails, newspaper columns and TV and Radio personalities congratulating me on my winning idea!  Warm tinglng toes around the nation everywhere, except gas and electric energy companies of course, they might be shivering a wee bit.

Tsk!

 

FreeImages

 

Instructed to 'get some fresh air' to remove sluggishness I opened the windows.  This, I expected, to bring a fresh cleansing breeze through the house.  However, with a west wind all that was brought was the colossul amount of pollution that London, further to the west, emits.  Clearly congestion is not easing in the big city.  

Instead, I forced myself for a walk, masked but not from Covid, just to keep warm, and wandered across the park, into town and spent money in 'Poundland.'  Such a useful shop, I am so glad they do gift cards, it saves money at Christmas, but it was sad to see the shelves half empty.  I am not sure if this is caused by a lack of goods coming from China, though as most of their stock begins there that is likely, or whether they are considering closing down.  Imagine 'Poundland' going bust?  

 

Too Sluggish to Cogitate

Been sluggish all day, still catching up, too much football, too many emails, too much red wine, too many books to read,  which mean I have no thoughts tonight.  This will not change much in this world.

Great is Thy Faithfulness (Tune: Faithfulness - 3vv & chorus) [with lyri...

'In Xanadu' A Quest

WOB

 

At last!  One of the many books toppling over and crushing passers-by has been finished. This took a while as I just could not fit it in with my busy schedule...

In 1271 Marco Polo, along with his father and uncle set out on an expedition to Xanadu and Kublai Khan.  His father and brother had been there already, as mercantile traders they had worked their way across Asia and China, lands for the most part unknown in Europe.  They returned with messages for the Pope, as the Mongols had by this time a form of religion and such diplomatic communication was advisable to prevent war. 

William Dalrymple, a young Scot studying at Cambridge, for reasons of his own decided, accompanied by a thrusting, domineering young female, to follow the old 'Silk Road' and retrace the journey.  This book follows his efforts from Jerusalem to Xanadu and the details of the travels therein.

The journey during 1986 includes adventures in Iran, Pakistan, and misses out Afghanistan as the Russians had sealed the border with layers of landmines which even the Afghans could not cross.  Into Communist China and with 'help' from the security forces to their destination, the crumbled, flattened remains of the Khans Summer palace, where there was not much left to be seen.

Some of the travel was via bus, lorry, even Chinese army truck, and the manner in which the author claims to have avoided the security forces is often hard to accept.  His attitude throughout is not uncommon among certain types of well educated Scotmen.  

The book describes the History, architecture, climate, surroundings and people of the places passed through.  It is interesting to note great differences at the time between people often living close ot one another yet so different in their culture.  Islam dominant in one form or another except in Communist China where among other things the clocks are all based on Peking time, three hours different from some areas far distant.

In one sense the book is 40 years out of date, in another it captures the 'feel' of the time.  I suspect economic growth and the creation of concrete dwellings approached along vast motorways now predominates where camels and donkeys once shared the potholed rough tracks with the ageing lorries and buses.  However, I wonder have cultural attitudes changed much in the distant regions in that time, wealth creation or not?

I quite enjoyed the book, written when the author was 22.  His travelling companion left half way through in Delhi to meet her boyfriend and another was found to finish the trip with him.  I can understand how he finds women so easily...

The book is worth a read, and an insight into far flung past ages.

 

Nothing to Say

 

Thursday Sunlight

It is a great delight to wake in the morning and note the lightness in the sky.  The sun has not quite risen but the sky these past couple of days has been bright and cheery.  All this indicates that in spite of the cold outside Spring warmth awaits us. Only the other day it was dark still at 7:30, now it is light before then, cloud cover permitting.  All jolly good for the 'mental health' as they say these days.

 

 

I had a quick look regarding elections, it appears the 5 year election remains but there is one or two options remaining.  I found this on Here

The Fixed-term Parliaments Act 2011 (FTPA) introduced fixed-term parliaments to the United Kingdom, with elections scheduled on the first Thursday in May of the fifth year after the previous general election, unless the previous general election took place between 1 January and the first Thursday in May, in which case the election takes place on the first Thursday in May of the fourth year after the previous general election.^[16]

Removing the power of the monarch, on advice of the prime minister, to dissolve parliament before its five-year maximum length,^[16] the act permits early dissolution if the House of Commons votes by a two-thirds supermajority. Parliament is also dissolved if a government loses a vote of no confidence by a simple majority and a new government is not formed within 14 days.^[17] Alternatively, a bill requiring just a simple majority in both Houses could be introduced to establish in law an earlier date for the election, which is how the date of the previous general election was set in 2019.^[18]

Thus, the next general election is due to take place on Thursday 2 May 2024, unless it is triggered earlier.^[19] Under the Electoral Registration and Administration Act 2013 parliament would be dissolved 25 working days before this date on Tuesday 26 March.^[20] Under the Fixed-term Parliaments Act, the Prime Minister may schedule polling day up to two months after 2 May, subject to approval by both Houses.

 

Sadly this appears to mean we cannot have an election soon, the gangsters would avoid this today.  That sad news sets the sun on my day.  Now off to bed and football!  What more could you want?

Bye the way, I have been banned again on facebook for 'encouraging violence.'  This from an organisation that refuses to remove white supremacist, racist, porn and other 'stuff' that appears decent?  Tsk!  I suppose algorythms cannot tell a joke from a threat.  Bah!

 

 

 

Cyclists Boris...

 

If you look carefully between the branches you can just make out lots of lycra and Hi-vis jacket clad cyclists.  They gather here, helmeted all, before making off towards the old railway line and heading who knows where.  There always appears to be a fair number off them and clearly they are happy to gather week by week in this way.  Personally I am not sure I would like to be part of such a throng, especially as I would lag behind everyone, and possibly on my own or with one or two others it might be more sociable as there would be more chance to veer off in your own choice of direction.  Not that this matters today, my bike has not been touched for two years now.  At least I avoided cycling with the wind and possible rain falling today.  The trees are shivering, the gray clouds keep passing by, the cyclists were all well dressed for such weather but sitting here with my feet over the heater I am happy enough today.  

 

His days are numbered but he is still here, lying, acting, bluffing, refusing responsibility, and awaiting the ERG killing him off, once they have their man in their pocket.  I still say that if I were he I would call an election.  The Polls say Labour would win, however, Boris can claim many loyal Tory voters outside of the House, they will follow him still.  Many are disillusioned but others loyal yet.  For Boris it may mean the loss of some of the ERG, one or two of them will fall, it may keep him in a job.  I doubt he will be so brave however, sadly this will continue for a few weeks yet.

 

Slow Monday

Slow Monday, which got slower.

Toddle up to Sainsburys, how exciting is that?

Few people about, though many cars in the car park.  Shop itself quiet, only two checkouts open, no real queue.  Of course if the man in front had stopped her from talking so much we might have got out quicker.  

Road traffic quiet also.  

People are wary of the virus, most wearing masks, even many outside.  Yet Boris the rogue is talking of ending restrictions rather than loosening them, no matter how many bodies pile up!  

I suggest Boris calls an election.  Tell him the Polls are always wrong, John Major was not fooled by them, why should someone as noble as Boris fear Polls?  

We can always dream.

 

Nothing else happened, did it?  

If it did I never noticed.

Someone must be having an exciting life, and I don't mean those being house trained by their dogs.

Out there excitement blossoms, somewhere...

 

Slow Sabbath

 

Not the best Sunday today.

The morning was OK, I was given a lift to Kirk, and there most things went well.  I spoke to all those I needed to, whether they needed to speak to me was not asked.  Normal behaviour from the congregation, a four year old 'Power Ranger' attacked me till his Grannie saw him off, pretty girls (the term 'girls' can be stretched a bit here) surrounded me, some spoke of their or their families problems, others wondered where this person or that one had disappeared too, and a group of men discussed 'mens stuff' and worried that the local team was now bottom of the division and the manager about to get shoved out.  Normal serious discussions.  

However, that was fine, a lift home also fine, dinner imitation Forfar Bridie and beans. Now I find I cannot take a picture of the moon correctly.  The camera must be bust!

Now music problems, loud, just too loud for someone in that room below, clearly done to annoy but I cannot see why.  She is female and therfore who knows why she plays such bad music, and it is terrible music, loudly.  Is there a reason?  Why not say what it is?  The landlord may know soon.

Football not great, tea not great, my need for sleep great.  I kept waking every hour last night.  This enables me to remember part of the dreams I was having but is a bit of a pest just the same.  Nice colourful but absurd dreams I have, a result of a twisted mind I say.

I think I may go off early and find some more...

 

Fog, Town, Djokoviv, Farage

 

A slight touch of fog this morning.  A slight touch that did not remove itself until around 4 pm, at which time the sun had already gone down behind the trees and people were considering what was for tea tonight.

 

I therefore stumbled up to the shop noticing how quiet the town was, though a million people were wandering about the shop itself while few appeared at the checkouts!  Maybe they got lost in the fog?

Anyway, I obtained my few needs, hobbled home down the remarkably quiet street, and continued dissipation for the rest of the day.  It's what Saturdays are for.

 

 

I did peruse the press hoping for excitement, none came.  Loud screaming headlines, all the right-wing press slanting things their way, some trying to avoid blaming Boris by blaming the BBC, the secretaries, the civil servants etc.  Others pointing the finger and bellowing 'His time is up!'  He however, remains.

I was rather hoping his apology to the queen which contained no apology would annoy her so much she would call him in and sack him, which is the one constitutional right she retains.  This however, is one she would not use lightly, I think Charles however, may encourage this.

 

Nigel Farage is upset.  The Australians have once again detained the tennis player Djokovic for his attitudes to vaccines and playing fast and loose with the virus.  Nigel is upset the Australians have made use of a policy regarding immigrants that he wishes to bring into the UK on Djokovic and says they must not use this draconian policy that he wishes to use on UK immigrants because it is dictatorial and inhuman.  Hmmm...   

I also read someone saw a YouTube advert featuring our Nigel claiming Brexit failed but this insurance company can help you.  I wonder if anyone else has seen this and I also wonder how much he is making from this?  Such a tart this man.

 

Sun, Boris, Andy

An uninteresting and boring picture.  A vain attempt to indicate the brightness of the sun yesterday morning and today again.  The fact that Jack Frost still lay across the fields as I passed is hidden here.  I am unable to get out.  The scanning photos takes time, plus I must eat, watch the African Nations Cup when it is on and read books.  This does not leave much time for anything else, bar needful housework, the caring helpful women still avoid me!  

This also means I have spent little time watching Boris run away and hide (aparrently a relative' with Covid has been close) and he is avoiding the people who elected him.  It seems the TV and radio have been full of Cabinet members defending Boris, each trying to keep his job as they know Sunak will dump most of them.  Sunak himself is of course not a good choice.  I read recently he was part of a group in at the deep end in 2008 when the economy collapsed, yet he never mentions this.  His love of the rich and his lack of knowledge of anyone below Millionaire does not speak well of a man capable of leading the nation, and on top of that he has few friends in powerful places.  This means Liz Truss may be next in line!  

 

We stop there to let that sink in...

 

Talking of success, I note Andrew has reliquished all his honorary titles.  The media report this as 'Queen dumps Andy.'  Whether this is the queen or others in the royal house is hard to tell, but leaks will occur, and certainly they are ensuring Andy must face this alone.  All done to protect the monarchy.  What the monarch thinks about it is hard to tell. Andy was her favourite, but Andy has got into bother and even the elite cannot protect him now.  Only a judge refusing the US demand that he attends the US court can stop him facing action over there.  Good luck with that!

With Boris back against the wall, Andrew desparate for an escape it is easy to join in the crowd yelling and pointing.  There is however, something not right with the witchhunt even of the fallen hero or the guilty man.  A more sensible, none tabloid approach is required and hard to find.  

There again, had both men admitted to themselves any wrong doing, confesses and faced the music honestly I suspect attitudes would be different.  Denying clear wrong, as Boris has done, and hiding in Windsor like Andrew, has not been good PR.  Confession is good for the soul.

 

Photo Scan Time

 

Got myself a job!

My brother died a few years ago and with his widow now moving near my best, most attractive, and highly talented niece way down south the house has to be sold to pay the care home bills.  My brothers office, full of interesting thngs, was off limits to me in case I nicked bits.  Now however, I have been donated some of his old pictures from the days of long ago.  

Most were of his time in the RAF, this aircraft is situated somewhere in the middle east (Sharjah)where he was stationed during 1971 (Can you remember that far back?).  There are a lot of pictures of aircraft that I cannot identify, it being so long ago most have long since been scrapped.  Being the RAF they were probably on their last legs anyway, buying the latest and best for 'our boys' has never been important to our politicians.  

So, now I am attempting to scan three albums full of pictures.  Some look interesting, some boring, some fading with time, and all are off pin sharp clarity!  Using RAF cameras, and often his own (probably) second hand cameras, twisting knobs and fiddling with lenses my brother, RAF Photographer, manages to get sharp pictures while I, with my fancy dan Lumix cannot!  Bah!

 

 

These look like Hawker Hunters to me, so that dates the pictures.  This was the time the UK was withdrawing from 'East of Suez,' for financial and 'end of empire' reasons.  That said, it is no surprise to know the better aircraft, Phantoms for interest, were deployed in the UK and across Europe where they were needed.  

Not sure if below the aircraft we see the base beneath or the local town, either way I like the idea of a house surrounded by a wall with a central courtyard.  That way you remain hidden from view, rooms all around, yet have space to do your thing, I think this is very middle eastern.  I like the idea and will seek such accomodation once I am a billionaire.  Not actually in the middle east mind.

So, nothing else has been done, and probably will not be done tomorrow or until I get fed up of scanning pictures.  That will be quick mind...

 

The Ancient Wall of London

 

I stumbled across this video today and was intrigued, not just by the video itself, nor by the fact it is quite short, about a dozen minutes or so, but also by the way London has changed architecturally since I lived there.  

Jago, for it is he, takes us around the remains of the ancient wall that once surrounded the small port of Londinium.  The dates vary, certainly most of the wall was erected by the Romans, at places the red Roman tiles can be clearly seen, and while amended, reconstructed, and bombed occasionally much of it remains visible.  Jago tells a good tale, he is clearly good at this, knows his history, is easy to listen to and the only spoiler is the advert that comes too soon and remains too long.  

 

 

I do like short but informative videos, and when I have actually seen and photographed some items shown in the film, and touched and walked beside them I am truly quite happy.  This may not reflect an active lifestyle of course.  

However, it was the intrusion of modern buildings that really irked.  When we see old churches dating back a thousand or so years overlooked by a concrete and glass construction that bears all the clear hallmarks of an architect with a drug problem then I despair.  At one point some semi-circular building leans out across the busy street looking like something momentous found half buried on a Normandy beach.  What was the point of that?  All around gleaming monstrosities glare down their snooty nose at ancient buildings, or their remains, that speak of humanity and culture (well apart from the Circus, the scaffold, the slaves I mean) and the inhumanity of London life is revealed in glass.  

OK, I know it was not all humanity, kindness and agape love in the past but really these modern buildings reaching up to heaven are either people seeking to 'make a name for ourselves,' or laundering rubles or some other currency that ought to have remained back in its own country.  I suspect our Nige does not object to such immigrants as this.

 

 

This beam is a remnant of a Roman wharf dating from the good old days.  Whether this one remembers Boudicca arriving and burning the place to the ground, slaughtering everyone she found and moving on or not I cannot say with any guarantee, however, it has been there for a while happily outside this church at London Bridge.  

I suppose this Iceni woman is responsible for the wall more than anyone.  She also created jobs at St Albans and Colchester where some of the wall remains in place.  Yet in spite of these jobs the history books, at least those written by Romans, did not speak well of her.  

I recommend this video, and a search through his other ones, especially if you have a contact of sorts with London.  A great metropolis, full of humans with all the god and bad attitudes found in any other vast city, though life is much healthier now so many are working from home.  For walking tours it is great, if you don't mind people crushing you, and history is everywhere, but I would not move back without a lot of money and quiet and cheap home in the centre!

 

WHO IS THERE LIKE YOU - Stuart Townend [HD]