Resting on the corner, blending in with the mellow color's of everything we've become
Take a trip to the moon and back, After dark we'll hit the sack By morning this song will be done

The artisic vision, of a musican, is something no one can can forsee.
Music brings us all to life, as we all compete the strife, Stumbeling on the thoughts of our mistakes

So now this plausible story is coming to an end, tomorow will bring another tune, but until then
I'll recomend this tune, Sleep under the sandy dune, we'll grow up to become men, in the end.