Lyrics:
faithfully in her solitude
Her "yes" welcomes the indwelling Trinity
May our prayer always be a "yes" to God"
Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be
I was sitting in the classroom
Trying to look intelligent
In case the teacher looked at me
She was long and she was lean
She's a middle-aged dream
& i make some sense together
Arts & crafts & money don't make sense anymore
You & i make more 'cents', than all of the bank accounts in America
Holy
wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna know know know know
Can you feel it? Can you feel it?
We've got that connection
That connection, that connection
“Pain-Body & Peers”
Peers, what’s the connection
(connection)
Connection is my point, not who I connect with
(uhm - uh - uhn)
(uh-um-mm-mm-mmm)
Connection
the people
I woke up in the city in a bit of a rage
Determined to free my mind from this art official cage
Dot dot dot my teachers thought from an early
connections
Who understands it?
Difficult to evaluate
Art isn't easy
Trying to form collections
Always in transit
And then when you have
Bonds unite beyond blood's hand
Python's art, connections so grand
True purpose known, happiness found
Guided by the grace, purpose unbound
Bonds
The art of making art
Is putting it together, bit by bit
Link by link, making the connections, yes we do!
Drink by drink, taking every comment as it
The art of making art
Is putting it together, bit by bit
Link by link, making the connections, yes we do!
Drink by drink, taking every comment as it
Art Of Hustlin, that's the name of the game
Forget the bad past, cuz now it ain't the same
Wadup Street Connect, yeah, time to rumble
Fake Mc's
[Culture Freedom]
Heavens to Merkatroid!! *Snagglepuss imitation*
[Wise Intelligent]
Posse, friends God, tend to the teacher
Stammered at me
To each and everyone for the preservation of life... watch it!!!
A la edad de 6, yo quería aprender
karate, martial arts, era lo que quería hacer,
The purest of the heart know the art to this life
Many others just get lost in the sauce my advice
Shouldn't really even matter if you listen to your inner
it's normally a war on us
Distorted cause them black mirrors blurring my reflection
The signal weak & we never established the connection
We centuries
a headless faun
Fail or you pass you just a teacher-less pawn
How can you last you've got no featureless song
Given a task I'll smash it while I'm stretching
and riches connections
No paper chasing obsession
Being able is a blessing
Teacher teaching learn the lesson
Preacher preaching hear the message
QB passing get
For we must keep our eyes to heaven and not to the cock
The Catechist
What's a teacher but they who've tasted pineapple
And handed slices to pupils
Yet
Yellow settle in the nestle of a set of trestled colored pencils
Stenciled in a bridge to build the amplest connection
Shit is reckless
Still my best if I
the cowards, creators and destroyers
Each teacher, each preacher, all the workers and employers
All the brave explorers that took to the seas
Every single
Contemporary arts
It's all about art
My teacher said
to make any art
Contemporary arts
It's all about art
My teacher said
This is our practical
And gym class taught me lyrical exercise
Helped my mind stay fit when they test my pride
I had this teacher named Marshall who taught language arts
I heard
to art school
I developped my pop soul
With all my electronic friends
That never ends
All my teachers,
Much greater than preachers
All my teachers,
Much
Yeah, yeah
We've got that connection baby, oh
We've got that continuum
Aye, aye, aye, aye
Our stories got continue them, oh
Yeah, we've got that
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