There is a time for everything under the sun,
A time to be strong and a time to be weak.
The patterns I pack (in my case) will travel with us
Passersby
’till theft do us depart.
Will I elect to run a head of God, or
Will I call the shotgun on this adventurous detour?
There is a time when mulligans are plentiful.
There is a time to do the right things and a time to do things right.
There is a time to fuss over all our wrongs
And a time to make all the right mistakes.
You’re a mystery, my dear. My lover,
There is a time to be a kid.
There is a time to run away and a time to return.
But with me, my son, there is no forgetting you.
