Lletres: Richard McGraw. St. Anthony.

Anthony, if you can hear me
I hope that you are better
now that the worst of things
came knocking upon your door
His face was like real estate
Intending to mold your fate
he got what he came for.

Making out in the 6th grade.
You were so ahead of your time.
I didn't bother to make out
till I was f*cking 99.
In the gymnasium
befriending the big girls,
letting the white boys
join in the freestyle.

Alright, Alright

goodnight, goodnight
Alright, Alright goodnight

Now that you're number one
Get down on your
graveyard knees
Cut loose from this
Newburgh scene.
Return to the fragrant trees.
No animal vacancy.
No cheap mediocrity.
No evidence in the sky.
No eyes to see me cry.
Goodnight.