With the best of intentions I glue my rump to a chair And try hard to spend the next few minutes in prayer But something smells funny A fly keeps buzzing
We met not four years ago But it feels like a lifetime And your faces are indelibly seared Into my mind's eye But we're all on different roads And now
When I was the age of thirteen I was so sure of exactly two things That I was just too young And that one day I would grow up I just thought it was some
Hush now, my friend Let the silence take you in Sweet melodies you'll find Like the sound of rushing winds There is such beauty in this life Hiding
Well I have always been this way Now I'll sell tickets to my fight with Yesterday Yeah, and life will never be the same But hey, that's ok! (That would
I used to be so certain Of where my life was going But now it seems that I've been flirting with disaster Now I can see all my plans They're dissolving
At the end of time Before the throne of God I hope to be defined Good and Faithful Servant Then my faith is deemed Solid as a rock But sometimes it
You're such a scarce commodity And I am poor it seems Yeah, I'm so jealous of your time But, Patience, he is king So I can wait my turn 'Cause I'm holding
I cherish this fond memory It's a gorgeous picture in my mind Swinging in the hammock out back Just me and you, Sister Discussing our futures and what
Well I revealed who I am an hour too late And now I'm regretting that mistake 'Cause I'm still smarting from the shards of broken mask I've got embedded
I'm on this side of the mountain And all I see is more to climb But my home is on the other side And so is my mind Pull myself up on the promises Of
As I've struggled through these years I've had my share of pain and share of tears But one thing I've come to find Is that I am Yours and You are mine
His son had and MB5 Shan was the man on the rap tip Marley on the beats, Big Wag on the crack tip Shit was sweet, Trent was a fly nigga John Boi a live
makes me mad! John Updike: Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run... Kazuro Ishiguro: Ah so, old chap! Malcolm Bradbury: stroke John Steinbeck, stroke
(feat. Mark Figeroa) March, march, march, march Boomdizzle, baby Way back in 1776 Who would have thought we would have had these chicks Sum kinda slim
icon his son had an MB5 Shan was the man on the rap tip, Marley on the beats Big Wag on the crack tip, shit was sweet Trent was a fly nigga, John Boi
(Chris DuBois / Lee Thomas Miller) It's funny all things a man can do when he's asleep Like playing right field for the Red Sox on national TV Or the
