He swift don't win the race. It goes to the worthy, who can divide the word of truth.
She speaks with a stutter and she and she walks with a hop. I don't know why I love her, but I just can't stop.
It's mighty funny. The end of time has just begun.
Without freedom of speech, I might be in the swamp
Upon four-legged forest clouds the cowboy angel rides
For them that think death's honesty won't fall upon them naturally life sometimes must get lonely.