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The meek will inherit the earth in the last December, crying, suffering, poor, ailing and infirm altogether at the gathering. Near an old exiled oak after the full a sound came, I am calling, I am the one find me in branches reaching wide.
You are for a trip with light on the way, a supra highway a once and only in December time, a big sleep and nothing in-between all and everyone. You go, you go to Mars you have been proven a thousand times upon earth.
You have suffered but have found glories are awaiting all around and abundant. Wait awhile at the stroke of midnight, in the distance you are gone all is silent, we are roaming did you see us go far away to Mars we are free now the meek without limitation.
