LYRIC

Don't you worry, that man's got the story
It's tucked in the bag that he carries so close to his thigh
And it's hope that you read in the words that aren't his,
In the script that sits ever so cold

Trust this man, he carries my wishes
Be good to your sister and help every one else to love
With love,
Your mom

And he gave his word, to be there by noon the next day
Even if by his own two legs
So we've got to make haste, beat the sun to the west
So it's not on the blades of your back, you're fiery back

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