I've come from peering over the crest of a valley happy hasn't left, but hasn't happened to have settled yet, effervesce in a treble clef, rise up early in the morning trying to fid out for my people seeking, they see a king, and in my dreams on the cold shelf of ice i cling, and in the back of 1 mind, the happy I find i just surrender for the serendipity, this is in depth, poetic ethic of the life of a man, that crazy is chance taken to make an advance, and say one day when you stand, each point of view from when you were slayin the dragon that fathomed from melee and hand to hand combat where heart and mind was your hands and life you defends the very light, that sometimes bends into bands of slices so thin that they're forgotten about, again. without is what sin is in Latin, a Maxim in a send, trapped then in suspend suspense expense offense to reminscense, of a gift that I'd give, to you to relive and know what truth in rhyme and lyric is