Heard the Heavenly Father say Thomas just stacked a plethora of edits son, the light bulb was made by small errors.

Only way to fail is if he called me home. If I must roll in the deep I promise to make everyone rich pallbearers.

Moving to the beat of my own drum, I’m destined to finish the journey even if they stop believing.

Less focused on what I’ll be able to possess, more obsessed with what they’ll say when they’re grieving.

A decade’s time of stacking and stashing dimes.

History doesn’t repeat itself but I’m the next word in human history that tends to rhyme.

I studied the predecessors before my time, a frightening realization to feel that we’re in mine.

There was nothing special about the first men to reach the peak of Everest, they just decided to climb.

Stones can no longer pop my bubble, I’ll go in any space, any room, any market and air It out.

I trade so well it’s scary now.