The sky is the limit and the flight of the livin' is a, part of a gift n we oughta be shiftin'... down
memory lane, up to tha new wave of the game. No wishin', it's part of a blame to the ones who be
Strickli' in vain, by the light of the flame, a bruise so highly inane. And the Snively is pain, for
those who've lost one of the same, I know you know of a phase, that'll wash out with grains from
a bottle of J...-n-Coke. The time is depraved, let alone, those up in graves, I'll smoke one to the
ashes, if I may. Count down to the day we all surface to say...
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