Our praises are our wages.

Though things change, the future's still inside of me

We must remember that tomorrow comes after the dark

I'll teach you how to flow.

To lead the wild into the ways of the man

Follow me; eat my flesh, flesh and my flesh

Holla, you clown.

How could it be through the misery that came to pass

The hard times make a true friend afraid to ask

He speaks plain cannon fire, and smoke and bounce

Picture if you will, seven deadly human beings

Blessed with the gift of speech

Our tongue is rough, coz, and my condition is not smooth

Oh what a tangled web we weave

When we conspire to conceive

Sing no more ditties, sing no mo,

Of dumps so dull and heavy

A coward dies a thousand times, a soldier but once.

Cowards die many times before their deaths

Something wicked this way comes