The World:
Yo, you know, I'm just tryin to find my place,
Things happen, people make mistakes,
But what am I sposed to do when it's like fate's chosen you
Decided too, run your life through, countenance colored blue

Bitterness controls the roles,
Apathy, toward where it goes,
Happiness turned sorrows,
It's like you've changed from that golden soul,
Now you're lost out in the cold,
No longer bold, you fold,
Pressures bring you to culture's mold


The Father:
I am well pleased with my Son and those who's hope is in Him have received forgiveness and have been reconciled unto me


The Son:
Why do you, my family, continue to stand along the fence?
Make the choice, take the stance, remember why you repent.
Come broken, smashed, and dashed, formerly considered trash,



more to come