Some things change,
some things won't.
Animals die, but nature still grows.
Someday I'll get old.
But still the bible is the oldest story ever told.

Talk about the heart of words.
It's just a feeling we hide.
Talk about the kissing birds,
in a million songs we write.
But it's not a waste of time,
when I talk of you and I.
Maybe I commit a million crimes,
in every word that I ryme.

Everybody got a satisfaction in life.
So why don't hold tide,
to this will to survive.
Someday we will see,
that loving, is simply ment to be.