This too shall pass
This too shall pass
This too shall pass, ooh
Accent... and Kinetics... One love
The heart of this artist, harvests a harshness from
Horrible hardships so hardily harness that are hardly harmless, he harps in this harvest
Disatisfied, with the lack of pride
As he travels by harlem, the bronx anarcas
On the MTA, with an empty cage
He wants to set ablaze, 'cause everyday the stress parades from every waste
His reddened face, reflects the pain of what his pen will say
Then a master ray of senseless rage just can't send him restraint
Things get in his way, the boy spouts some steam
Some get out and leave
Others surround his feet
Mumbuling I'll reheave, reluctantly smile, 'cause things, just come from the childish dreams, and smotherd profounder things
Such as the songs they sing but, window becomes a lense
Magnifiable, pass her bys, until it covers them
The laugh was crys, and clap was sighs, they both reformed his gin
Imagine

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