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!