time looking for the reason why the end never remains the empty hours from the past never come back again who knows what made god decided to destroy
that ancient place Already the last priest is dead, no one alive It is the secret of the old temple Where no one stepped in for the hundred of years
With a suffix-less that's absents of reasoning Ashes burn place in a urn and there sore a Red Snapper for seasoning I lead a primal region Whose main reason
served by my first verse, for living in a fantasy Yessir, like my nigga Pharell, for real Niggas get killed, Black Knights, we destroy then build [Christbearer
soul That I would never change Well that's ok fine with me Got a hundred sides What the hell more do you need Don't even try to find A reason in your
Howard Johnson's! Howard Johnson's! Howard Johnson's!) "Ahhh! there's a HOWARD JOHNSONS! Wanna eat some CLAMS?" The first noteworhty piece of real estate they destroyed
slowly orbit around the planet. If this wouldn't be an authorized flight, the ship wouldn't be more than dust right now. But the satellites wouldn't destroy
from your face. Now ain't the time for your tears. William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres With rich wealthy
the time looking for the reason why the end never remains the empty hours from the past never come back again who knows what made god decided to destroy