• Every man born from mud, has a destiny etched in stone.
    A hole in a cloudy sky, tells man you can succeed.
    Just because the paper is blank, it is not stopping man from writing.
    A voice carries miles from a woman, a woman to become something great
    Hands of man, heart of gold, helps the day be great.
    Man yells I can succeed.
    Every little being, is the small of birth.
    Molded into something great.
    A little person grows into man
    To speak aloud, "I can succeed"