Don’t trip, it’s just a bumpy road. You’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine… ya. Don’t trip, it’s just a bumpy road. We’ll be fine, we’ll be fine, we’ll be fine… oh no!

What would happen if God leaned down and gave you a full wet kiss?

Do you choose to cough, yawn, sneeze, blink, cry? Do you choose to, breathe, laugh, love, live, die? Do you choose to cheat, steal, lie just to survive? Will you kill if it keeps us alive?

Don’t trip, it’s just a bumpy road. You’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine… ya. Don’t trip, it’s just a bumpy road. We’ll be fine, we’ll be fine, we’ll be fine… oh no!

What would happen if God leaned down and gave you a full wet kiss? I don’t mind answering astronomical questions like that. You would surely start reciting all day, inebriated, rogue poems like this:

When you see the ruined road, you hesitate in fear. Yet when you squint your eyes, the world is filled with hope and cheer.