At the sound of the Bel, to load shells, to deliver on Sunday, "You got mail!"
Wantin' to nail? To all fall down? To inherit the Earth? Ur a clown.
And as the trumpet sounds, at the speed of sound, but this Star is the White Light.
So thas when
yahweh (2)
On a galactic tour, the Award Tour of sorts.
With the King's Court, and to make the drug deal.
We're right on time, this the Soul for Real.
And I swear for now, this is one of the last seals.
Having to for real, "For real?" Is this for real?
