Rest, my son.
All the big stars sing about love,
which kind of love.
Cut the crap,
who's got the hart on the run.
It's time to rest, my son.
There will be a day when,
"Hey Babe, let's make babies,"
is finally said.
And walls will weep and
the ground will shake.
We'll take place in the race.
There will be a day when
I love my lover.
(Peep kind of love)
1) Get down + lay on Jersey land
2) Breathe deep and shakin' out the nerves
3)Close eyes and dream a little dream
4) Carafe of wine with the wife.
Results are finally in and
boy are the teachers proud.
You pa**ed the test!