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He asked me, "Son of man, can these bones live?"
Along narrow roads forcing some of them to flout:
"The bitterness is real, the decline fictive."
Americans still aren't ready to forgive
though they've been stripped of their financial clout.
He asked me, "Son of man, can these bones live?"
As it struggles to remain active,
mayhem beats the plot to a pulp. By the fadeout
the decline is real, the bitterness fictive.
Check out the anonymous love missive:
I turn you around, put hooks in your jaws and bring you out.
He asked me, "Son of man, can these bones live?"
China's consumer market is massive.
They will lay siege to all the cities throughout?
The bitterness is real, the decline fictive.
Where the road goes down the Mount of Olive,
I would attack a peaceful and unsuspecting people, without
He asked me, "Son of man, can these bones live?"
The bitterness is decline, the real fictive.
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