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One assemblage from Sewell's yard stands out. It is her monument to faith, a white plastic chair perched on a white-painted automobile tire. A chunk of cinder block has been placed in the seat. Again, she sings a sort of free-form improvisational gospel hymn:

I am going through.
I’ll pay the price.
I’ll take the way
And fly into the sky.
So many, they started out
But didn’t make it through
Because they turned away from Jesus.
Go along with Jesus:
He’ll see you through.