Under a midnight sun; with the sounds of a substantial anthem. To those standing out, but not all can stand them—or understand them to easily brand them. It’s like a problem not to sneeze into DMs, and seeming allergic to women in the real. I have a couple mentions appearing up on reels.

Under a midnight sun; where it’s a mix of lightness and fun. Children’s tyre swings, and wearing an attire that never changes in its satire. As we all walk a thin wire of what it takes to inspire. So domesticated in a dogma, of where the bark is the only reference to a bite. Drinking the pleasures of flesh out of spite—all the thirsty people sip sprite, and come out tonight.

Under a midnight sun; ****** by a pistol of holders using that ***** gun. Let’s all have a blast in the past, to aim at old prospects hoping that they’d last. Smoking propane for a quick gas; passing comments behind people’s backs to seem like an ***. And woes to those who think of how to smash and pass.

Under a midnight sun; at a time where I need to see in the light His love. To share it with those that seem so easy to un-love. To treat as such, but I must treat them as being more than enough. To see their story through the scars, of they value being above the stars. We’ve all come from afar!

Under a midnight sun; as a song of the dawn. Sing as loudly throughout the moments dark. Sing as proudly as what lives in you is the Son.