There ain't no genie jars to grant what your petty wishes are
Weekend trippin to wherever, only heaven is far
Paul mason is faster than you
What preceded was the clue
Your heart was false just like the words you said
Jars upon jars, but yet no jam for the bread.
You let it slide, i hit home-runs, clean her dugout till i’m done
A chronicled naysaying of a hospital patient, a nautical mason,
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